Crumbled

Not too long ago, my nieces came over (with my sister) for a visit to my place. They run around the place, they laugh, they screech, they climb over everything. Basically, they're acting like kids.

My sister gives them each a cookie when they're finished their lunch. They snack on them for a bit while sitting/walking around. After a few minutes, I see white flecks on my walnut-stained hardwood floors. They're crumbs. Everywhere. My nieces aren't messy, but the cookies practically fall apart the second you touch them.

I want to take the cookies and put them on plates, but I know my nieces won't use them. So I keep myself busy with other things, like talking to my sister and taking care of lunch.

When they leave, I pull out the vacuum and clean. I go back and forth in the same spots, but the crumbs don't disappear. It feels like I'm doing the same motions for hours. The crumbs are everywhere! I won't even mention the upholstery. It's as if they're embedded in there.

While I'm doing all of this, it hits me: I'm turning into my mother. She's the sort of person who will neurotically clean something for hours even though it's futile. What's the point of trying if it's going to get dirty again? is a thought that crosses my mind on occasion. But, I don't do that and carry on with my cleaning.

Now I know the next time the kids come over, they're not allowed to eat anything.