Last night, as I was cleaning out the cabinet under my bathroom sink, I came to a life changing realization. I am not a Stepford Wife. I know, you're just as shocked as I was. I'll give you a moment to let it sink in.
Are you OK now? I'll give you a few more minutes.
I had just finished standing on the bathroom counter (don't tell my husband) to clean off the light bulbs, change a few that were burned out, wipe down the top of my medicine cabinet, and clean up the nick-knacks that live up there when I decided I was tired of sorting through tiny hair bands to find my bobby pins & eye shadow, so I emptied out my make-up drawer. That led to the emptying of the cabinet under the sink, BabyGirl's hair clip drawer from her room, and my purse.
35 minutes & a grocery bag full of trash later, I realized this is only the beginning of the serious spring cleaning I need to take on. Then I thought of my very tidy friend, Kork. Does Kork need to spring clean? I mean, she cleans her baseboards regularly. I'm pretty sure she washes off her kitchen cabinet fronts more than once every 6 months. Heck, she dusts. Me, not so much. It's a really good thing we didn't room together in college. She'd have never spoken to me again.
I should point out that I, in no way, think Kork is a Stepford wife, nor would I have a problem with it if she were. I think it's awesome that she wants to keep her house in tip top shape at all times. I really admire the fact that a team from Good Housekeeping could come into her home on any day & other than Capt. & DG's toys & books, it would be photo ready. Part of me wishes she could bottle that drive & send some to me.
But that isn't me. Does it have to be? No. If you show up unannounced at my house, I cannot promise there won't be dirty dishes piled in the sink & a film of dust on the entertainment center. If I know you're coming in advance, I'll try to make sure there aren't 15 blankets & pillows strung across the living room floor where the FarmHands have been playing house. I attempt to do a thorough cleaning once or twice a year (carpets, tops of cabinets, closets, book cases), but our house doesn't stay that way.
I call it the-comfortably-lived-in-look. Just think of my house as your favorite pair of well worn jeans. Decent enough to run to the grocery in, but not quite meet-the-queen material.