When I was a little kid my dad would give me a nickel after I cleaned my room on Saturday. Over time the nickel increased to as much as a quarter until my dad realized he was begetting a very large family and those quarters were adding up. Dad wasn't one to waste money. He soon realized his large stature was enough intimidation to convince us our bedrooms needed cleaning without paying us. The thing is, he didn't need to threaten me. I had come to like cleaning my bedroom on Saturday. I had come to appreciate a clean environment. As an adult I continued to keep a clean house. My home was never very well decorated because I had the taste of a college freshman, but it was clean. In fact for many years I even had a cleaning person, until Mark scared him away with his clutter. Now that the house in on the market, I have to make sure it is always clean because we never know when the agent will want to show it. De-clutter and clean, de-clutter and clean, it's a never ending process. Hell, just trying to keep up with messy Mark is a full time job, plus I have the dogs and the clutter. Yes, I've been de-cluttering, but you still cannot tell that things have been removed. There is that much. And then there is the kitchen. Every day the kitchen floor has to be mopped because when Mark cooks half of everything ends up there. Even with the help of the dogs and their quick tongues, the kitchen floor gets sticky. I will be so happy when this whole house selling thing is over with. I can relax with the cleaning for a little bit and prepare for the next step, the next headache. House hunting with Mark in Chicago. It won't be pleasant because I promised him a lot just to get him to go along with the move. All I need is four walls, a good heating system, cable television, and a dog run. Mark expects so much more.