It's not my job!

I was walking through a multi-million dollar store the other day and on it's high polished floors, under a clothing rack that sported shirts more expensive than I could ever afford until next season when they show up on the racks of my favorite Thrift Store, was a dust bunny almost as big as my cat. There is a whole battalion of men who come into this store each night to tidy it up for the next business day. They are paid to do the floors, nothing else; just sweep, dust, mop and wax, and yet this small Army of men missed an 8 inch dust bunny? Perhaps it's petty on my part, but suddenly I don't feel so bad about my own house. If a whole cleaning crew can spend 8 hours a day, 40 hours a week on nothing but cleaning and they still can't get it all, then how can anyone reasonably expect one woman, in between her own 8 hour job and all the fun things that come along with raising a family of teenagers, a cat and dog to have an immaculate house?

I rest my case.