I have spent the morning cleaning my house. And by cleaning, I mean moving piles of junk from one place to another place, where they look moderately more organized. So I suppose if we’re being technical here, I spent my morning tidying my house, but let’s just pretend I cleaned it because I want to pretend it’s actually been cleaned. Here are my deep thoughts while cleaning:

Could Greek yogurt also be used as chalkpaint? I’m thinking yes.
I’m never, ever buying bubbles again.
I’m never buying Fruit by the Foot again. So many wrappers.
Can someone please invent a self-stacking book? Now there’s a product I could get behind. Shark Tank is waiting!
If I had a nickel for every crushed goldfish cracker in my house I’d be rich.
Is that a snake?! WTH! Oh, no, it’s just a faux hair braid headband snaked into the corner of the bathroom. Lovely. Well, that got my heart rate going. Cardio for the morning, check.
It’s time for a break, where is the remote?
No the other remote, the more rectangular one so I can access Netflix and watch House of Cards.
The next round of birthday parties will be strictly no gifts. There will be tears, yes.
Cups. Cups. Cups. Cups. Cups. Cups. Are we all that thirsty? Is this house a desert?
When can we have nice things?
Do I toss the whole baby bottle or try to clean it? Toss, it’s now in solid form.
Still no remote.
I really hope that’s a Fiber One Brownie on the carpet. Yes? Yes.
Did each child wear five outfits yesterday?
If I find one more string cheese wrapper…
Oh, that’s where all the Band-Aids are.
Why do they have to peel the satsumas into like 1,000 tiny pieces? Why not, say, 100 pieces?
Markers. Toss. Toss. Toss. They’ll be sorry when all they have left is gray and brown. That book they love, The Day the Crayons Ran Away? It’s happening, kids, today. Right now. Running into the trashcan.
Did the stuffed animals go hide somewhere and multiply? If they somehow come alive and stage a mutiny we’re dead because there’s about 500 of them.
The shoes. Always the shoes.
Why is it so hard to put the Kleenex in the trash can? Why? I mean, it’s right next to the trashcan.
Why is there an apple core in this toy bin?
I’m never letting them eat in the living room ever again. Never.
Well crap, there’s no more cushions to flip, they’re all stained on both sides.
I’m going to staple those little couch arm covers to the couch. Add to grocery list—industrial stapler.
If any toy has more than three pieces, I’m not buying it.
Screw you, bead kits.
So this is where all the printer paper went. . . . 1,000 sheets of paper with one random letter drawn on each one.
Wow, there’s a lot of Starbucks cups in this play area. Why didn’t anyone clean them up before now?
I think it’s time to call the carpet/rug/upholstery cleaning guy again.
Why do I even bother?
Never again, play doh, never again.
Awww, that toy has been used by all my girls! So sweet. Channel the Konmari method: thank you, toy, I’m setting you free, via the trashcan.
Oh wow, that’s a chicken nugget on the floor? We haven’t had that in like two weeks.
Thank God we don’t have a dog.
Maybe we need a dog? The dog could eat all this food. But a dog poops and pees. Nope.
How much art of theirs do I keep? Better hurry up and bury it in the trash under the petrified food items or I’m in big trouble. They find it every time.
Can I stop now?
Shopkins. Brought to you by the toymakers that want your toddlers to choke. So many, where to begin? I know, with you, Mary Meringue. You’re mine now!! (Evil laugh).
Can I just install a garbage disposal and drain under my kitchen table?
Where is that smell coming from? Where? Oh. The Hamster cage.
Why did Santa bring a hamster? Why, Santa, WHY?
I need to hire a professional home organizer.
Random Christmas ornaments, lovely. Guess these have been here awhile.
I wonder how long this room will stay “clean”? Minutes vs. hours, definitely not a whole day.
FOUND THE REMOTE! It’s time for a break.