A couple of weeks ago on Coronation Street, Norris and Mary gave Emily a pair of floor polishing flip flops as a gift. Emily, a widow who could be in her late 60s or early 70s, wasn’t overly impressed with the gift. And who would blame her? She could break a hip if she attempted to polish her floors with those flip flops. She could be going around the coffee table, take a wrong turn near the buffet, slip and find herself right on her backside.
But for a mom like me, those are the perfect gift. Yes, they are ugly as sin and they’d be hard walk on the beach with, but they’d be perfect to clean up sippy cup messes and general spills. I’m tired of sippy cups leaking. I’m tired of feeling like I need to mop the floor once a day because darling daughter has dumped her strawberries onto the floor for the umpteenth time. I’m tired of mopping said messes up with my socks because I’m too lazy to get a cloth out, get on my hands and knees and clean it up myself.
The messes never end. If it isn’t peas being smashed into the rug or milk pooling underneath darling daughter’s booster seat, I’m dropping something on the kitchen floor. And there is only so many miracles the Dyson can perform. I know it is a little early to ask, but Santa, can I have a pair of floor polishing flip flops for Christmas? Because it would make my life a lot easier. And take some stress off my joints.
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