Like this:

The past few days I have hardly left the house.  These are my favorite kind of days.  It’s cold and windy outside and I make hot chocolate and hot dinner for the kids as they come home.  I fold the laundry while it is still hot out of the drier and wipe down the countertops with hot soapy water.  You can’t tell it by inspecting my house, but I love housework.  Or rather, I love to work in the house when it is quiet and calm and I have a great audiobook on my ipod.   Once I make peace with the fact that I will never finish it or get ahead, I find that there is a fine line between work and play. Today I discovered that T likes housework, too.  He took the spray bottle and squirted it by himself on the front of the dishwasher.  He then took a wet rag and wiped it, saying, “wash, wash” as he worked.  I hadn’t noticed how dirty that surface was and he stayed with the cleaning job for several minutes.  He then moved on to the refrigerator.  This time, he took a marker and scribbled on it first, then sprayed and wiped it again.  At first, I tried to stop him, but as I watched I realized that the surface wipes perfectly clean, like a giant dry erase board.  Why not?

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