Mopping Nostalgia | Life Journal

I forgot that mom mopped the floor in Nebraska. She never let me because I was too little and the mop was too big. Our entire military-based house was  devoid of carpet, but she still mopped ever square inch of tile. I remember that, because she'd tie her hair in a bandana (the yellow one) and I could smell Kraft macaroni boiling on the stove. I couldn't eat yet, because I was stuck in bed waiting for the floor to dry.

The first time she taught me how to mop, I mopped the master bedroom bathroom (the one that the ants always invaded.) She told me to start at the end and work my way to the door - which I did. I still recite her golden rule of mopping whenever I mop a floor.

Today, I mopped the floor by myself.
Yesterday, I mopped a store floor as I closed up shop.
Someday, I'll mop my own floor.

And for some insane reason, I really wish mom would mop the floor again.

1 comment

  1. Since you mop the floor so well, I need never mop again. ~Mom


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Maira Gall