Squeaky Clean!

So I have this small obsession. With Bleach. Fantastik with Bleach will do. I inherited this obsession from my mother. And with this strange fanaticism comes an equally compulsive addiction with clean floors. It really isn’t funny. I will crawl under tables if I have to.

My faithful employees have of course learned of my crazy love - as I inspect the mop job each night. I apologize to them incessantly as I know I’m beyond irritating! I can’t even help it. It’s like a little voice is in my head yelling ‘rub - a -dub-dub!’ It’s not a crazy schizophrenic type of voice - more like a little cheerleader, cheering for Team Soap.

Ok - so I promise there is a point to this rant…. Last week we received a surprise visit from Julie, our friendly neighborhood health inspector! Of course I was excited and yelled, “Health Department, Man Your Stations!”…. A long story short…we got an A+! No discrepancies! That’s better than no cavities! I beamed at the squeaky clean cake shop, as a proud, slightly neurotic mama.

So the moral of the story is that there is a time and a place for extreme compulsive behavior. The time is now, the place is Pink Cake Box, and the compulsion is clean.