Where’s the broom and dust pan?

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. 

Biblical coat check

He doesn’t have to wear them ALL the time.

My husband, Bob, is forever misplacing his glasses.  I was not at the lake with him when one pair of glasses took a dive into the water, never to be found (by him, anyway, but maybe by a hungry large mouth bass).   Another time his expensive prescription sunglasses went missing from the car, and guess who got blamed for that one…??  Our house isn’t really that big, but enough so that treasure hunting for a pair of spectacles can make you late for work. (Has that ever happened?  Perhaps I shall