I believe an uncluttered home is a sign of an uncluttered mind. Like the late Daddykins used to say to me when I was growing up, “each, each thing in each, each place.” And like many of us, I too have modeled myself after my parents—with a place for everything and everything in its place.
Last night I was appalled when I discovered that my husband had arranged all his tiny shampoos and conditioners in an open cupboard in direct view of the toilet bowl. This morning I warned him that this was dangerous in earthquake country. He needed to move them if he didn’t want them toppling into the toilet. In any case, I had a big box marked “All Filched Hotel Shampoos And Conditioners.” Why hadn’t he put them in there? He knew I had a box or a place for everything.
“You know,” my husband said from his spot at our granite counter. He glared at me with a wry face, right pointer finger hovering over his cell phone. “Given a chance, you’ll find a “place” in the house for me too, won’t you?”
He had ventured into very marshy terrain.
“Exactly,” I said. I paused. I held my breath in my cheek. I felt the tension of the lioness just before she put claw to wildebeest. “I’m putting you in your place.”
At the moment the house is resounding with the melodious strains of my wicked cackle but something tells me this will be avenged when the time is just right.
~~~For reactions to this post on Facebook, go to http://bit.ly/SPIIP