I don't pretend to be a perfect housekeeper. My house is always basically clean, but sometimes, there is dried-up macaroni cheese stuck to the side of the coffee table and I don't notice it until after the guests who sat right in front of that coffee table all evening have gone home.
Other times, I really can't be blamed for a display of unkemptness. If, at the last minute, Jeremy decides to pull out the couch so our guests can have a better view of a movie we're watching, is it my fault if I didn't anticipate that? Can I be looked down on just because under the couch there are sundry "treasures," such as small toy airplanes, refrigerator magnets, hair clips, uncapped markers, and stray Cheerios, now revealed for the world to see? I don't think so.
Right now, there is a couch-cushion horror story just waiting to happen. A few weeks ago (yes, weeks), I was bringing out all the hand-wash laundry and I set a pair of socks on the couch just for a moment. When I turned back to collect them, only one of them was there.
This was vaguely terrifying to me. These socks were very dirty, and now one of them was missing in the vicinity of my couch, threatening to pop up at an inopportune moment (see dried-up macaroni and cheese, above). I had to find that sock! First, I did a cursory search for them and came up with nothing. I went back and checked in my bedroom to see if I'd dropped it there. Nothing. Then I looked all around the couch and under the cushions. Still nothing.
It's been a while now and I still haven't found that missing sock. I know I brought it out and put it on the couch, but now it is nowhere to be found. With my luck, it will choose to emerge right when some guests make themselves comfortable on the couch. Alternatively, someone else's kid - or our own - could pull it out from some forgotten corner of the living room and run around waving it above their head.
At least I've had some time to prepare myself for the eventuality. And I've learned my lesson: never put dirty socks on the couch, even for a moment. Also: always, ALWAYS, check the coffee table for dried-up macaroni and cheese.
Other times, I really can't be blamed for a display of unkemptness. If, at the last minute, Jeremy decides to pull out the couch so our guests can have a better view of a movie we're watching, is it my fault if I didn't anticipate that? Can I be looked down on just because under the couch there are sundry "treasures," such as small toy airplanes, refrigerator magnets, hair clips, uncapped markers, and stray Cheerios, now revealed for the world to see? I don't think so.
Right now, there is a couch-cushion horror story just waiting to happen. A few weeks ago (yes, weeks), I was bringing out all the hand-wash laundry and I set a pair of socks on the couch just for a moment. When I turned back to collect them, only one of them was there.
This was vaguely terrifying to me. These socks were very dirty, and now one of them was missing in the vicinity of my couch, threatening to pop up at an inopportune moment (see dried-up macaroni and cheese, above). I had to find that sock! First, I did a cursory search for them and came up with nothing. I went back and checked in my bedroom to see if I'd dropped it there. Nothing. Then I looked all around the couch and under the cushions. Still nothing.
It's been a while now and I still haven't found that missing sock. I know I brought it out and put it on the couch, but now it is nowhere to be found. With my luck, it will choose to emerge right when some guests make themselves comfortable on the couch. Alternatively, someone else's kid - or our own - could pull it out from some forgotten corner of the living room and run around waving it above their head.
At least I've had some time to prepare myself for the eventuality. And I've learned my lesson: never put dirty socks on the couch, even for a moment. Also: always, ALWAYS, check the coffee table for dried-up macaroni and cheese.