When you come to visit at chez triv, I really do hope that you came to see me, because the house is in no shape for company. We’re an overcrowded house, and in our case, that means a cluttered one as well. We have up to four people on a computer in our dining room at a time. Me on a laptop on the dining room table, the same table that occasionally plays host to two sewing machines. Sewing machines that live in a corner when not in use. Seriously, there’s no room for anything.
I am constantly donating and throwing things away, but it doesn’t seem to make a dent. It’s not dirty, it’s just clutter, but I now realize why my mom used to freak out at us, and I don’t have the child-power here to put to work that she did. There were four of us all clamoring to get out of the house on a Saturday morning. I do not have that. I have Cleetus, who does the heavy cleaning, and Baboo, who straightens up, and does the dishes.
So, if you stop by unexpectedly, the blanket that’s usually on the back of the sofa might be in a puddle on one end, and big Sponge Bob might be laying down on the other, because I just got up from a nap, and he’s my huggy. Yes, there is dust on that shelf, please don’t run your finger through and draw attention to it. And, sure, that is a washbasket on the floor by the chair. I was going to take it upstairs next time I went up there.
Come on out to the table, we almost always have some coffee on, and lately rooibos chai, and there’s fresh cream in the fridge, the house is messy, but my cups are squeaky clean. Have a seat, a beverage, make yourself at home. Friend of my kids? Hi, welcome, stay for supper. Call your mom, make sure it’s okay, okay?
I was always welcome to bring my friends home, and I always did. Once I was older and got a second shift job my mom never knew who might come down those steps in the morning, my friends slept over a lot. For a while I had one of my friends living with us. We never had what you would call a House Beautiful house, but we had the kind where people overlooked the flaws and felt at home. I’m still okay with that.
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Baboo got the part of FDR/radio announcer/New Yorker. Not a huge amount of middle school boys go out, I imagine~
is meant to be lived in. That means clutter. Clean, but clutter.
For a time we had four adults and two teenage boys (we were my nephews’ guardians), it was fruitless trying to keep it uncluttered and we had a really big McMansion. It didn’t matter that I had a service come most of the cleaning. I always found myself running the vacuum and mopping the kitchen floor.
Did I mention we had several cats and a 110 lb. Labrador Recliner?
Everyone did their own laundry and made their own beds. Occasionally, I’d have to stand over the boys or remind my spouse that I wasn’t responsible for him not having clean clothing, I worked, too. There were always books, laptops, sports gear and stuff. But under all the stuff piled on the breakfast and dining room tables, or pillows and throws strewn around the family room where the big TV was, it was clean.
Now I’m in a smaller house with only two other adults and 4 cats. It’s a bit less cluttered. We got rid of a lot when we moved but there still a lot of stuff and the cats think the couch and futon are theirs. Underneath it’s clean