Feets of Strength

We stayed in a nice condo last week at the beach.  I was initially terrified, as it was one of those classy-looking minimalist mostly-white affairs, and, you know, kids.  The kids did great.  We did not permanently stain or deface a thing.  I can’t say the same for the reverse.  I’d like to discuss the floors.

On the surface they were glorious. I’ve never seen floors like them. They had the appearance of planks made of driftwood. But in reality it was some sort of manufactured tile.  But after a day or two, we started to notice something. The bottoms of our feet were black. It seems those floors were glorious in more ways than one: they disguised dirt very well.  Our feet remain the color of Robert Smith’s wardrobe for the duration of the trip.

Just now I was in my kitchen despairing. They were stains all over my kitchen floor. There was something that was probably yogurt from breakfast one day (dammit Felix), some blackberry seeds someone thought they should spit out (dammit Stella) and dribbles of what may have been Cabernet (ok, I have to own that).  Clearly, it was time to mop. I banished the children to Stella’s room to watch YouTube videos as I swept the debris and prepared the mop water.  The experience reminded me of the floors at the condo. I checked the bottom of my feet. Hardly dirty at all, despite the crime scene on my kitchen floor.

Why am I telling you this? Why am I sharing how dirty my feet are? Because, sometimes I/we give ourselves a hard time for not being good enough. I know I often chastise myself for not keeping a better house – for letting things go too much. Well, my floors are clearly cleaner than the condo’s.  Either that or my dirt is more flesh colored. Regardless, I’m counting this one as a win!

 Enjoy your weekend, remember to take time to put your feet up, and only 21 shopping days left!


(P.S.  Holy moly, y’all!  The Crown on Netflix is so good!  I needed something not-too-dismal to watch while mourning again the end of Gilmore Girls ((and holy shit about that!)), and gave it a shot.  Only 3 episodes in and I’m hooked!)

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About larva225

Working mom. Is there any other kind? Geologist. Nerd.
This entry was posted in life, Parenting and tagged , , , , , . Bookmark the permalink.

2 Responses to Feets of Strength

  1. joey says:

    OMG, seriously, we had these floors in our Georgia base housing — some kinda faux wood vinyl, with GROOOOOOVES, ffs, GROOVES to trap the dirt in and holy crap did we all have black feet and how!
    I actually wrote a post about it. Those floors were the bane of my existence. I was always cleaning the floor.
    I totally get it.

    • larva225 says:

      It must’ve been the grooves although this stuff wasn’t vinyl. Either way, I’ll take my paler feet any day. It was a total confidence-booster! πŸ˜‚πŸ˜‚

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