My house doesn't look as bad as it did this time last year. I know this because I sent a picture of my livingroom to my sister last year, just to show her how busy I was. She wrote back and told me I needed help. Some of it professional. And she asked if that was indeed her niece amid the clutter. You could barely see her little pigtails poking up from behind the laundry pile.
It's the beginning of May and things are getting busy around here. We need to rush around and get the people we work for ready for the big season, so we can all take a nice long nap after Memorial Day weekend which will last until the 4th of July.
So I have been looking at my house and thinking, hmmm, am I not working as much this year? Why do we sometimes have clean clothes? And then I realized - it is because my boss has been coming to my house to work.
On those mornings, I shriek, "she's coming, she's coming!" and run around in circles, stirring up enough agitation so my husband dashes off for his hazmat suit and starts cleaning. I run in circles, he cleans. Rest assured that our standards for a clean house are still spectacularly low. This morning we swept up the corn flakes and I put away most of the laundry that was sitting on the livingroom floor. There are still bins of summer clothes in the kitchen, waiting for me to sort through and figure out what to stuff back in the basement. There are still little piles of who-knows-what that safeguard the house from intruders who might think that no one lives here. We don't have intruders because sometimes it's hard to get the door open.
Outside our kitchen door is a small pile of goldfish crackers (I wrote "crackers" in case there are any animal rights activists looking for a blog to blacklist). Clearly a call for help from some small child - dropping fish over the gate, like smoke signals. "Help help, can you see my piggy tails? I'm the one behind the overflowing recycle bin."
But really, it is better this year.