The typing is a little labored and painful today. It’s not writers block, I have too many voices in my head wanting to be heard for that to be an issue. No my fingers are a little raw from the pre-wife-coming-home cleaning extravaganza I’ve perfected over the past year and a half. It’s been about 3 weeks since she’s been home so things slid a little further into disarray than normal.

I know I’ve whined about this before but…It started with the dishes, it’s always the dishes, plates, bowls, spoons, forks, cups, a chinchilla…I didn’t even know we had a chinchilla. The problem arose when the dishwasher filled up with dirty dishes and I discovered we were out of dishwashing detergent. It took a few days to get to the store to buy some so with a full dishwasher more dirty dishes piled up in the sink.

I know what you’re thinking. “Why didn’t you have the chinchilla do the dishes?” Well I’ll tell you why. It didn’t have the proper papers so I was unsure if it was a legal immigrant. That’s all I need is immigration busting down my door and throwing me in the hoosegow for providing gainful employment to an illegal alien.

Why didn’t I wash them the old fashioned way? Well I’ll tell you why. I didn’t feel like it all right, besides that chinchilla looked like he new how to use that dirty steak knife he was wielding.

I reluctantly changed my mind a little later when I walked into the kitchen and discovered Jackson drinking milk out of souvenir shot glass. He threw back a shot, slammed the glass on the counter, looked up with a small shot glass sized milk mustache and pointed out that all the cups were dirty.

He set me and the chinchilla up with a round of 2%, we threw it back, Jackson and the chinchilla retired to the den for “Wheel of Fortune” and I got to work. Dishes are done, laundry is laundered, and the ring in the toilet bowl is a shadow of its former self. So for the next three days nobody is allowed to use any dishes, change clothes or do whatever it is that causes that nasty ring.

When Dawn gets home there will still be a hint of sparkling citrus in the air from the cleaning solution that removed the skin from my finger tips. The sink will be empty and the kitchen cleaned in preparation for her to make a shambles of it with the cooking and baking she enjoys so much.

As long as she leaves some chocolate chip cookie dough in the freezer and leftovers in the fridge she can make as big a mess as she wants. It’s always sort of sad when we eat the last of the leftovers after she returns to college. Going back to my predictable cuisine can be tough after dining on Dawn’s creative creations for a few days.

The kids don’t complain, they’re a polite lot, but that chinchilla sure is opinionated.

Now for a public service announcement: My sister happened upon a website that lists people that are owed money. Rebates, unclaimed money, stuff of that nature. So take a break from the Rosie O’Donnell fan site and visit: www.missingmoney.com

Maybe you’ll finally be able to get that operation you’ve been saving for.