We need to talk. I think it's time we break up. It's not you, no wait. It's totally you.
I know you're brand new. Our love should be vibrant. We are just getting to know each other. We haven't even filled all of your drawers up yet. I know we just painted you a fun color that really makes your features pop. But here's the deal, Kitchen...
I spend the majority of my time with you, yet you're my least favorite room in the house.
Your floors are always dirty. Between the toddler tornado, the pup's grubby paws, and our own contribution of dirt, your floor is always a speckled mess. Even when the floor is clean, it only lasts overnight. I am sleeping during that time, Kitchen. I don't even get to enjoy it because as soon as breakfast happens, we are right back where we started. Your appliances are sticky and full of fingerprints. Soon the little one will be able to open the refrigerator door by himself. I am predicting doom at that point, Kitchen. Total doom. Your sink always has a dish or two in it because the dishwasher is full. Sure, the dishwasher is used more than it should but mostly because it makes a great hiding place. The mess can just camp out for a day or two before we have to worry about putting things away and filling it up again. There are random things left on your counters like mail, phones, sunglasses, keys, and notebooks. I know we paid a little more to have a handy drop zone in the entry way but Kitchen, your counters just seem more available.
The more time I spend with you, the more my son follows me and wants to see what is going on. Everywhere my son goes, so does Blankie. Blankies and Kitchens just don't mix. Remember? Your floor is dirty. Spills are evident. Dear son's blankie must always be clean for naptime. I need to protect it...for my own sanity. If I have to throw Blankie out of the kitchen one more time...things are going to get ugly.
I know, Kitchen, you don't think this is your fault. "Clean me after every meal" you tell me. Maintain my cleanliness so I don't become a "chore". Nurture me. Embrace me. Here's the deal, Kitchen. My son is a human garbage disposal. If I cleaned to maintain you after every time he ate, I literally would spend my days with you. He can eat non stop and he's learning to use a spoon. So yeah, that yogurt and applesauce everywhere? I'll give you that one. Let's blame him instead.
Guess what else, Kitchen? It's summer. We've been waiting for it for a LONG time this year. The sun is shining. There is dirt to play in, water to dump around, and parks to climb on. There is fresh air to breathe and sun to soak up. There are swimming pools, wagon rides, and walks. There are outdoor meals with friends. We have no time for your required maintenance. It's just not going to cut it. I'm not fulfilled spending my time with you anymore.
So here's the deal, Kitchen. This summer...we have to break up. We need some time a part. I'll let you wallow in your dirty floors, sticky appliances, and full dishwasher. My family has memories to make outside of your boundaries. I am vowing not to be bound to you and not to let your mess stress me out. We can talk about getting back together this fall when baking season starts but until then...
I'm sorry, Kitchen. We're through.