I’m not a neat freak by any stretch of the imagination. On any given day you can find my house fairly messy. I clean it every single day, or at least have my little minions do the job. But with nine people as busy as we…well…the white glove test…we would not pass.
If you come to my house I’ll welcome you in, whether it’s clean or not. I’ll invite you into the kitchen. The living room is usually passable if you don’t mind scooting the clean laundry aside to sit. You can even use my bathroom if you check for toilet paper first and promise not to open the shower doors. You may wander into the garage, down to the basement and even look at my kids bedrooms. Because you probably have kids too…and you are living my life.
But there is one place where I draw the line. One place that if you even get near the handle, I get a little edgy. One place that I treasure as my own little mess-nest.
Do not go into my bedroom. Ever. It’s not clean. It’s not organized. And guess what? I DON’T CARE!