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"While I&amp;#039;m the first to admit that driving an hour to work each day is getting old, the people have made it all worth it. We&amp;#039;ve had conversations about everything from marketing to mommy bloggers, what it means to be a cougar, the differences between cooking and baking (there&amp;#039;s quite a few - just ask my co-worker whose blog I just linked) and floor cleaners. The last link might not sound too exciting, but after watching a Black Diamond commercial that sings phrases about about their streak free shine and non-chemical formula, you might change your tune. (As well as prove to yourself that you&amp;#039;re less &amp;quot;cougar&amp;quot; and more &amp;quot;home body&amp;quot; if you&amp;#039;re more turned on by cleaning products than seducing younger men.) I asked my co-worker if her client&amp;#039;s product was all it was cracked up to be. Her response, &amp;quot;It really does work. It&amp;#039;s streak free, it&amp;#039;s chemical free, it&amp;#039;s a great price, and it makes your house smell like cookies.&amp;quot; I certainly am not in the writing business to give reviews to floor cleaners. As I told my co-worker, I can&amp;#039;t hand out Good Housekeeping &amp;quot;Seals of Approval.&amp;quot; I can ,however, award Good Housekeeping &amp;quot;Squeals of Approval&amp;quot; since my blogs reflect what happens on top of a well-polished floor. But it does bring up a lovely memory for me. About ten years ago, when I lived in a charming 1950&amp;#039;s walk-up, I had just finished baking cookies. I had stepped into the bath just in time to hear the front door of my apartment open. That would be none other than my Rex - now officially my boyfriend with my apartment key in his hand. (Little did he know at the time that in addition to an invitation for nookie any time he pleased, those shiny keys represented my ticket out of many a locked car/lost my purse/can&amp;#039;t find my keys HELP ME REX scenario. But I digress...) Rex sauntered into the bathroom where I was lounging in the tub after a long day on the set. In one hand he had a beer. In the other, he had a plate of cookies. &amp;quot;Hey... those haven&amp;#039;t even cooled yet,&amp;quot; I teased him, reaching over and grabbing his beer. &amp;quot;Well, you&amp;#039;re looking pretty hot, too&amp;quot; he offered. (Pretty snazzy language from a tech guy, no?) &amp;quot;Oh shut up and hand me a cookie,&amp;quot; I threw back him. &amp;quot;Watch it, Sassy,&amp;quot; he shot back. &amp;quot;You already swiped my booze - You can&amp;#039;t have my cookie!&amp;quot; &amp;quot;I baked them!&amp;quot; I yelled, half laughing, half indignant. &amp;quot;Now hand &amp;#039;em back!&amp;quot; He looked at me dead serious. &amp;quot;Make me.&amp;quot; What could I do? Dripping wet, with his beer in my hand, I got out of the tub and clobbered him, soaking his work suit to bits. Before long his clothes were in a heap on the floor. That worked out well, as we needed a little cushioning for what happened next. I can&amp;#039;t say we did it on a fancy Black Diamond shined floor, but we polished it pretty darn good that night. Every time I drive past that old apartment, I can&amp;#039;t help but think of beer, chocolate chip cookies and lovemaking on hard wood. (Emphasis on those last two words.) Happy Tuesday everyone.  * Photo from I-Stock "^^<http://www.w3.org/2001/XMLSchema#string>
<http://www.goodhousekeeping.com/life/relationships/a22610/the-time-rex-really-floored-me/>