I arrived home before Dutch did today after my Retreat in Sonoma. I hadn't been home since Sunday night and I think I may have come home to the wrong place. The garbage is overflowing, there are dishes in the sink and a half-empty six pack languishes on the kitchen table. The toilet seat is up and a huge Ikea construction project dominates the living room floor. I feel like I have stumbled upon a boys only super-secret subterranean hideout. A smelly one.
Of course, somehow I am not mentioning the mess on/over/under my drafting table, my dirty clothes on the floor... somehow its worse when the mess isn't mine.
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Uh oh... it sounds like how I spent my weekend cleaning up after my stepfather. We both decided to have dinner made for mom when she came home from work. It consisted of Jeff cutting things, leaving them on the counter and Heather picking them up.
Hey!
You didn't meantion all the fabulous things that I built, fixed and moved for you in lieu of cleaning. Or that I cleared off your mess at the drafting table. Or that you had been warned before-hand about the mess. Or that little schedule mistake of yours landing you at home before I could clean up. Or...
(I don't sound defensive, do I?)
Yeh, we had this same conversation for a while. I won on picking up the clothes, but he won on the matter of the toilet seat staying up. We both won on the issue of looking the other way most of the time. The GREAT part is that he reads your blog!
I forgot that this is a part of marriage-we deal with it all the time so that its sort of woven into the fabric of our marriage....
Go Team DutchCam!
Thanks Dutch for cleaning up my drafting table, for putting the light fixtures together and picking up the mail. xxoo
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