I have a confession:- I don't enjoy cleaning the house. There, I said it. I've come clean, as it were.
Actually, I am sure this will be of no real surprise to you, since most people probably feel the same way about their own, and it will certainly be no surprise to anyone that's been in my house and seen the inches of hay etc covering the floor of every room and hallway. It's a constant uphill struggle. Uphill on a downward moving conveyor belt. With Whisky-Kong sat proudly hurling barrels of mess down at me from above.
But last night I kind of did enjoy cleaning the bathroom. And why? Because cleaning away seven bunnies worth of fur, claw pieces and crusty scent-gland detritus off the floor was a clear signal to my brain that this months major bunny-maintenance was done and dusted.