I don’t know what’s wrong with me. I am not, by nature, a Susie Spotless at home. My method of cleaning revolves around inviting guests to our home just often enough so that I have to clean before the entire house lists sideways from the amount of clutter and slides into the neighbor’s swimming pool.
And if I haven’t done a deep cleaning in a really long time, I make sure to invite my parents for the weekend. Because “Mom Clean” is an actual adjective in our household, and there’s nothing else like it.
Fortunately, my husband and I seem to have about the same tolerance for clutter and cleanliness, which means neither one of us gets freaked out before we break down and straighten up around the house.
The funny thing is, I always insist that the house is clean before we have guests. So everyone we know (I’m not talking to you, Josh and Brian) thinks we really are Neatnicks. What they don’t know won’t hurt ’em, right?
Anyway, I’m on a cleaning/purging/organizing/get-rid-of-everything-in-the-house-that-we-haven’t-used-in-the-last-17-days kind of mood. For crying out loud, I borrowed a book on how to organize from my mom. A book. On how to organize.
And — wait for it — I even bought a paper shredder!
Now if I can just find a anti-shedding full body suit for the dog, I’ll be happy.