A toothbrush and a bucket

Well, I started cleaning the house with a vengance last night. Armed with a broom, a bucket, rags and some Mr. Clean with the power of Febreeze AND rubber gloves, I began the daunting task of cleaning. There was a fine coating of red dust over every surface, there were cobwebs, cockroach feces, dead flies and other unmentionables. By the time I finished sweeping one room I was hacking and coughing because of the stuff that was floating in the air.

Meanwhile, Tanner was working on repairing some of the major cracks in the walls and assessing the materials we would need to purchase.

Then Kate and I started to scrub the floors. Kate did a marvellous job scrubbing the floors and walls. It took 3 buckets of cleaning solution, but we did indeed get it cleaned. At least now I'm not afraid to lean on the walls.

And then, we got a little scare. We had planned to just lay carpet down, but when Tanner pulled up some of the peeling laminate the only thing underneath it was slatted wood. No subflooring at all. I groaned. It meant at least another 2 days work, and of course more money. Luckily, Tanner had found a general contractor who had agreed to come at take a look at the house in just a few minutes.

Luckily, because the contractor explained that no one puts subflooring down in Texas. Apparently it's a northwest thing. It just doesn't get wet enough here to demand subflooring. So, if we felt apprehensive, he suggested a vapor barrier.

And now for the toothbrush story.
We went to the house today to begin painting and finish mudding. I decided to start on the trim since that would keep us out of Tanner's way as he finished mudding the 3 front rooms. I gave Reagan a paint brush and Kate a paint brush. They each got a small bucket of white paint (VERY small) and I showed them where to paint and what not to paint (i.e. the windows). We proceeded in this fashion for a couple of hours, and then, Reagan started to cry. She said, "Icky, Mommy, icky, Daddy!" We both looked to discover that she was spitting out white paint. To the bathroom, a good rinse, and everything was okay. I was perplexed. Why had she done that? I mean, paint smells icky. Tanner put her down on the floor, and as she spied her paint brush she cried, "My toothbrush!"