When bare foot meets polished floor
Yesterday was Thanksgiving and as some of you know I sold my dining room table set. Yes, on Thanksgiving. Don't ask me what I was thinking. The person wanted to pick it up so they could have dessert with the family at their house. How could I refuse?
Later in the day when I sat down I stared at the empty dining room and the lone rug lying on the floor. I decided that the floor needed to be cleaned. First I vacuumed the rug then rolled it up and moved aside. Then I swept up the wood floor. No, that was not good enough. I got out the all natural floor cleaner and a microfiber cloth and yes, on hands and knees I cleaned my dining room floor.
That was still not good enough. With the room being empty I thought it the perfect opportunity to polish it. I pulled out my trusty all natural polish and another microfiber cloth and once again got on hands and knees. Using a lot of elbow grease I polished that floor to a wicked shine. It smell great because of the oil in it and when I walked across it in my sock feet the floor squeaked. Isn't that a great sound?
So here's the bad thing with me. Once I get started, I cannot stop. I did the exact same steps to the kitchen, pantry, half-bath, and the entry floors. I would have done the living room but by that time of night it was a little late.
As a reward to all that hard work I treated myself to another slice of my best ever pumpkin pie with Cool Whip on top.
This morning I get up and before I work out I always go down the stairs to feed the kitties. As bare foot hit freshly polished wood floor I realized my mistake. My foot skidded, pulled my legs into an amazing split, and then yes, I landed straight down and hard on my butt. OUCH!
I yelped, cats scurried away, and then all I could do was laugh. This is what I get for my obsessive nature and liking the fresh smell of my all natural polish. Or maybe it was all the sugar from the pie the previous night. Either way, my backside is a tad sore and no I did not even bother working out after that.