I would rather sit here and eat bits of last night's birthday cake (Happy 50th, El Husbando!) than clean the house, but I know I can't tolerate the embarrassment of visiting with a friend--whom I haven't seen in over a decade-- in the pig sty that currently poses as my house. No disrespect intended to the swine of the world, of course. All pig sty references aside, I hear they are much tidier than my children.
Off I go. Only 65 minutes to get the whole job done. eeep!