Grading on a Curve

I used to think no one really cared about my housekeeping skills. Everyone was too busy with their own agendas to-do lists relationships to spend time thinking about how I was running my home. That was the mature way to view life I thought.

Did I use that belief as an excuse to leave the Vicks VapoRub on the bookshelf for three weeks? Perhaps. But I like to live in a relaxed state of mind. I’m organized in some ways — I always have a to-do list and follow it methodically. Jobs always get done and I am never late for appointments. But I’m not necessarily tidy. Okay take out the “necessarily” — it is not really… uh… necessary. I am not tidy. And I’m fine with that.

I have a happy home okay? Filled with joy! We live lives of ecstasy. We are thrilled daily! Daily! Bliss is my middle name Peshie Bliss Needleman. So who really cares about the Vicks VapoRub or the disorganized toy closets?

Turns out Suri did.

Who woulda thunk? My delightfully whimsical eight-year-old daughter who flits here and there leaving her sticker album on the table her library book in the coat closet her mittens on the kitchen counter. Yes she of the “I know I put the spelling test back in my backpack. Maybe the cleaning lady took it out to look at my mark and she lost it!” fame.