I think I used to somewhat deceive myself that once my three children flew the coup, my house would be a more organized residence.
What a joke.
The reality I have had to face a long time ago (and Bob has patiently and lovingly embraced this with my other idiosyncrasies) is that I am a “messy girl”. Now, add our big, black dog to that mix, and my fur-covered carpet and floors just underscore that truth.
By contrast, everywhere my folks go, improves. Amazingly. They are both from the builder generation, and are themselves two of the most disciplined and selfless people you could hope to find. Continue reading “Where’s the broom and dust pan?”