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living breathing talking love

don't ask how long I've been putting this off

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don't ask how long I've been putting this off

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The kitchen floor is CLEAN. I'm going to watch an episode of Mad Men while it dries, and then I'll put all the chairs and things back in the kitchen.

I also made a very successful Domestic Shopping Run to Ocean State Job Lot earlier. Leaving aside the bit where I want to call it Building #19, for those of you who aren't familiar with either establishment, it's a deep-discount, closeouts-and-odd-lots-and-off-brand STUFF store. I got new bedding for the teenager, because what we had was either ratty, or not warm enough, or SOMETHING, and mostly not in coherent sets, and was DEFINITELY not getting changed often enough. What I got was a two-sheet-sets pack where one set was zebra print and the other black with white polka dots, an ivory fleece blanket, and a black-on-black striped "down alternative" comforter. All twin size; as far as I'm concerned, since the teenager sleeps on the twin upper bunk, the lower full size bunk can be made up with a bottom sheet and one of the existing comforters and some random pillows and call it seating. This whole assemblage set me back less than most sheet sets go for at BedBath&Beyond. I then used this haul of shiny new stuff to browbeat the teenager into ROOM CLEANING. Including airing it OUT. PHEW.

The rest of the stuff? Three plain blue salad plates, to bring our household count up to six, so I can hold off buying an entire new set of dishes for a while. A pair of fuzzy chenille socks for each of us. A roll of masking tape, because the kid took the roll that I kept in the kitchen drawer for labeling food containers and brought it over to the ex's for painting stripes or something, and, dammit, how can I keep house without a roll of masking tape? A pair of silicone oven mitts (one of the reasons they were cheap is that they're SMALLER than Orca brand, which is perfect for me and my bitty hands) and a pair of hot pads with hand pockets, because even if I'm accustomed to using towels as oven mitts, it's really not ideal. A fresh Sharpie. A couple of mini notebooks that said "SKATE" and "SURF" on them because one of the voices in my head insisted I needed to get them for one of the voices in eternaleponine's head. A power strip for my room, because the extension cord situation is getting just slightly ridiculous. Some batteries for my book light. Some cheap bubble mailers for sending out mix CDs to my friends.

It reminds me of the Erma Bombeck article where her husband is asking the price of a pocket comb, and a pencil and notepad, and other small doodads around the house that he can never seem to find when he needs them. Because it was an OLD essay, the total came to something like $1.67. And he was all, "And they say money can't buy happiness? For $1.67, I could be PERFECTLY happy!" $1.67 of random doodadery is now up to about $40, but let me tell you, those random doodads will GREATLY increase our happiness around here!
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