Talk about bad house keeping ...

We live in a dirty disorganized house. It only makes sense, really, because we are a pretty dirty, disorganized family when you come right down to it. You know how people insult boys sometimes by saying the throw a ball like a girl? Well, I clean house like a guy. I read an article recently that described the young man's college diet of pizza, conveniently stored in boxes under the sofa. I had to laugh, because guess what my husband was eating that week? Left-over pizza, conveniently stored in boxes on top of the stove. (Just giving the people what they want.)

When it comes time to leave the house, for a weekend out of town, say, things can be pretty amusing if you’re not the one caught in the middle of it. For example, when would think it is time to mop the kitchen floor? If you said just about the time you notice it is getting dirty (which in our house is about 5 minutes after I finish cleaning it), you are at least two weeks ahead of my schedule. In our house, the preferred time for these activities is on the morning of the day you are scheduled to leave for vacation. Sometimes an hour or so after the time you had decided to leave by. When do you finish packing? Well, most of it is done 5 minutes or so before the car pulls out, but you're not really finished until you have gone back 2 or 3 times for the last-minute things you forgot.

It's not just me. My husband is like this too. When I went into labor with our first child, after my water broke for heaven's sake, he came home and shaved. He then was trying to decide whether or not to take the garbage out (note that this task had remained undone previously) when I pointed out to him that I needed TO GO TO THE HOSPITAL! Maybe that's why we're so compatible.

I have often remarked that our house looks like an earthquake had hit it recently. People usually chuckle when I say that. I get the feeling they are appreciating my self-deprecating humor whereby I admit failing live up to some unreasonably high standard of housekeeping, my vivid imagery. No, as a person who has lived through an earthquake, I am just honestly and accurately describing how my house looks. The sad thing is, it's not really funny. I can't tell you how many women have commiserated with me over the terrible state of their houses, and when I see their house it is, to me, really clean and well-organized. I always feel betrayed, especially if I have let them see my house in all its awfulness.

Fire hazard? Tripping hazard? CAN I EVER FIND ANYTHING? Talk about wasting time.