My Hubby says I am my own worst enemy. Truth be told, he isn't wrong.
Yesterday I was trying to get caught up with laundry and after 4-5 loads I stepped in a puddle of water on the floor when I went to switch loads. I got it mopped up the best I could and called my honey. However he found fixing fence more pertinent.
He did come home early. Pulled my washer forward and did a thorough inspection. A test load of whites and then towels. Of course no flood. Which is irratating in a I'm glad there isn't a flood or leak, but way to make me a liar and throw off my routine.
This morning the Hubby said "I think you are good to finish the last few loads, but leave the washer pulled out until I get home."
It sounds simple enough and I really cant explain why I couldn't leave it at that. Instead I finished laundry. For real finished, as in all done, folded and put away. Even the wash by hand. Inspired-Possessed by this I decided I wanted to clean behind the washer-dryer ad lets face it I haven't done since we replaced thoses appliances a year and a half ago. In the process I managed to bump my head on the shelf and knock off a glass apothecary jar full of clothes pins.(down to 1 oit of the orginal 3 now). Of course it shattered everywhere. This lead to a thorough sweeping. ...and stepping barefoot on glass. Leaving bloody footprints all over the floor and creating a need to mop.
With a full fledged floor cleaning necessary I decided I might as well move the washer back in place. Which lead to me tearing the vinyl on the floor and stepping on more broken glass...barefoot again.
It also required calling the Hubby to see what he knows about floor repair. ..and a "I thought I said to leave the washer alone until I got home?"
So here is the question. ..mop up the bloody footprints or leave them for sympathy?