The dishes are done, the floors are washed, the laundry is done and put away, the carpets are vacuumed, the toilets are scrubbed, the sinks have been descummed, the kids have showered, I shaved.

Did I mention my wife is coming home for the weekend? Have you ever been watching a major league baseball game when the manager calls down to the bullpen to get a new pitcher ready to come into the game?

The pitcher on the mound is struggling a little, and you see the manager pick up the phone in the dugout and tell the yahoos in the bullpen to get warmed up and ready to come in and pitch. As soon as the manager hangs up the phone in the dugout you’ll see a flurry of activity in the bullpen, or as close to a flurry as you can get from overpaid and overrated athletes.

Well the same sort of scenario happens when my wife, the manager, calls from her dugout, Vermillion, and tells me, the yahoo, that she’s coming home for the weekend. Goodbye’s, final salutations, and such are cordially exchanged, the phone is hung up, and the flurry begins.

A bonafide caffeine induced, wild eyed, flurry. The dust flutters off of various cleaning products as they are wrestled from their hiding place behind the stack of “recycle when I get around to it” stuff. In the time it takes to chug a cup of coffee, ooohh that burns, the scent of bleach fills the air.

Since I have been deprived of the sense of smell since birth, I deduce that the scent of bleach is in the air by the burning sensation in my eyes, nose, and throat. Fortunately for me, when I passed out from the fumes my head hit the refrigerator hard enough to open the door.

The crisp, cool draft wafting from the fridge was quite refreshing. As I lay basking in the soft glow of the fridge light, snacking on a carrot I was able to retrieve from the crisper, I thought to myself, “Aren’t carrots supposed to break when you bend them?” I’ll clean the fridge while I’m here.

I made my way to the bathroom, nasty toilet scrubber in one hand and a machete in the other. Judging by what I found in there we have a family of Yeti frequenting our bathroom while we’re out. I was able to knit some nice sweaters and a couple tea cozies for Christmas gifts out of the hair that was collected.

We’re all set for the inspection, I mean arrival. We look forward to the weekends Dawn gets to come home, and I don’t mind inhaling a little bleach so that she can relax and enjoy her time with her family without worrying about cleaning when she’s home.

So for a few days now I can greet people into our place and say, “You’ll have to excuse the mess,” and not really mean it.

Enjoy the tea cozies.