(Strip Number 4149, Original Publication Date, 16 March 1982)
Panel 1: It's a few hours after Elly trolled for sympathy from a dog; we find John's attempt to read his paper in relative quiet disturbed by his insane, entitled wife howling "Why, why, why does everybody expect to clean up after them?" (Hint: because every time they try doing it without being asked, you stand there ranting like the maniac you are about how they're doing it improperly and thus creating more work for you.)
Panel 2: She then reiterates her belief that a mess that would take a sterner soul about ten or so minutes to straighten up is an overwhelming mess that no one could ever clean up by screaming "There's mud and toys and clothes everywhere I look."
Panel 3: She then asks John how she can keep this place from driving her crazy.
Panel 4: Instead of saying something like "Whaddaya mean, 'driving'?", he smiles and says "Don't look."
Summary: Don't get me wrong, here; I know that keeping a place tidy is a bit of a hassle and, having remembered my own past as a pain in the ass as a kid, that it ain't easy or fun being a mother. The trouble I have with Elly's litany of boredom and frustration is that she seems never to realize that she's got it relatively easy; the mess isn't as insurmountable nor her children as rebellious as her fear and ignorance make them.