Back to Basics


Growing up, I swore I would never become my mother. By twelve, I knew for certain that I would never escort my kids to basketball practice in a white Ford Bronco, I wouldn’t insist my children wear linen short sets with Hawaiian floral patterns on them, and I was most insistent on never following in my mother’s footsteps when it came to cleaning.

I had a stay-at-home-mom who, for the most part, ensured we had a spic-n-span house. It should be noted that the level of cleanliness wasn’t my issue; my issue was that my mother insisted on cleaning everything with…. vinegar. As a kid – this pungent aroma seemed completely absurd as a cleaning option. How could the liquid that created my beloved pickles – also clean the floor?

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