So sushirob and banshree arrived just in time for me to tackle ... the Guestroom Closet.
Yes, I capitalized that on purpose.
Really, it was just an ordinary closet, so I wasn't quite expecting what I found when I opened it. It was filled from bottom to top, and I do mean "filled." There were two leather jackets and a long, black, hooded cloak hanging from the clothing bar along with a few other assorted articles of clothing. There were two, count 'em, two indoor swamp coolers: one, a small window-type unit and one a larger, standalone system. There were approximately four thousand, seven hundred and twenty five different bedspreads, blankets, and pillows. There was my long-looked-for Scrabble game, complete with tiles scattered across the floor. There were Christmas wrappings, tape, and supplies, and several other assorted and sundry things that I won't bother listing.
But this wasn't all. No, no. After enlisting sushirob against his will into carrying the swamp coolers and other heavy stuff out to the garage, and emptying out most of the bedding and clothing, we found that the past resident (or residents) of the guestroom had had company: the floor of the closet was covered with old mouse droppings!
Great. Hello, Lyme Disease. Or West Nile Virus. Or whatever it is one can catch from mice these days.
I sighed and thanked everything holy that my washing machine had a "sanitize" setting. We began what would be at least two full days of laundry with the bedding from the closet, and started on the rest of the mess.
But this is really only leading up to the actual story, so I'll take author's license and just skip through the gruelling two days of non-stop cleaning and get right to the arrival of the guests, whom, if you'll recall, included three children.
The room was clean, the bedding laundered, sanitized, and neatly deposited in the wardrobe. Our guests arrived after I'd gone to bed exhausted, and all was quiet.
Until the next morning.
(To be continued here.)