12.07.00
My poor kitchen floor.
In the fall it's covered in crunched up dried leaves.
In the winter it's covered in dirty, wet footprints and tracked in sand.
In the spring it's covered in smushed mulberries that fall from the evil tree above my deck and sneak in on the bottoms of my shoes.
In the summer it's covered in sandals.
Usually, there's detrius from my various cooking escapades as well. I completely admit that I'm guilty of leaving a piece of spaghetti here, a boxtop there.
Better it than me*.
*Yeah, it's bad enough to be dirty, but can you imagine being covered in sandals all summer long? That'd suck ass.
