In my kitchen, we have an island. Well, it might not be just an island. It has special magnetic powers that draw bits of everything to it. And not just one particular form of matter. It invites everything, from baskets to batteries, bills to school papers, hair accessories, crayons, markers, party invitations, pieces of my son’s Bionicles. The list goes on. Though you’d have to dig for it under a big pile of, well, crap. And, yes, I’m ashamed of this counter. Ashamed and also oblivious much of the time. Most of the time, even. When I notice it, I think I really ought to get to that. I really ought to organize it somehow. The inevitable questions after are But how? and Where the hell do I start?
So. Today my 6 year old daughter was looking for the scotch tape. I suggested that she look in the 2 or 3 likely places she may have left it. She was grumpy already, and didn’t feel much like looking for the tape herself. I asked her if she had looked yet on the kitchen island (where I could swear I saw it not long before, near the edge of the counter. Probably getting up the nerve to jump.). Her answer? A sing-song, hip thrust out, hand on her hip, taunt: “You mean the LAZY MOMMY COUNTER?”
Oh, girl.
To her benefit, she was standing at least 10 feet away from me. It saved her from being scooted to her room, heels dug in, with me nudging (yeah, nudging…let’s go for the euphemism) her toward a good long spell in her room. So I gasp: “(insert her name here, with a lot of these: !!!!!!!)” She wasn’t done. Guess I didn’t see the one-two punch coming. “Well, YOU never. Ever. Clean it!”Lucky for her, the universe intervened on her behalf, and she was allowed to transport her own little backside to her room, unaided by me, unless you count sonic force.
If FlyL*dy, whoever she is, is reading this, yeah, I know it shouldn’t be that hard to keep one kitchen counter clean. But it is. At least for me. The reasons for this are imbedded in my personality somewhere, and they are stubborn, thorny sons of bitches. And, according to new research conducted by my VBF and lovingly passed on, my chakras may be blocked or out of balance. Or just a big damn mess altogether. There’s a book I need to read (and I will) and work I need to do (I will…?).
Over the next hour or so, I felt guilty about the messy counter and plotted how I might go about organizing it. (I also have to laugh at my girl’s clever nature–pretty quick thinking to come up with Lazy Mommy counter on the fly.) Then I thought, Ya know, what does it say if I just go and clean the counter after B sassed me like that? So I’m going to wait, maybe 2 to 3 days. Weeks? No, days. I’m planning a trip to T*rget, where they have some organizing stuff. Well, I’ve heard that anyway. THEN I’ll clean the counter. Happiness will ring throughout the land. My husband will think I’m evolving as a person. I suppose we’ll all be happier, just like the people on Clean Sweep, et al. Maybe I will even post before and after photos.
If I could just find the damn camera.
{ 9 comments… read them below or add one }
i love it. you have just described my entire home and made me happy i have two boys all at the same time. except they get their opinion in on the state of our home every once in a while too…..
I SO relate to this and you made me laugh outloud. Our entire home office used to be this way, and we have a perpetual PILE on the dresser in our entrance way. However, I don’t have a witty little 6 year old dishing up delights. At least yet…
Funny, I thought of Flylady immediately when you wrote this post. I have found her helpful when I reach that deep dark despair of housekeeping failure. Which is often. 1 thing at a time. Toss the things that can be recycled, thrown out quickly. Your pile will probably be 1/2 done. But, yes, I’d keep it there for at least a few months…just so the little girl doesn’t think she’s making an impact.
As a writer, you honored me by coming by my blog and thanks for commenting!
Jodi–If in any way I could lift your spirits (the two-boys-lottery-jackpot), then the post was a success. I suppose I’ve earned the right now to go to B’s house when she’s a grown-up, and white glove the whole thing. Except I won’t. Plus, she’s awfully cute when she tries on my shoes, and she gives the best hugs ever.
JCK, your logic makes perfect, genius sense. If I remove the objects the same way they got there, one by one, then I might get somewhere. Actually, if I do that, it may be quite some time before the Girl notices. There’s just that much stuff. Thanks for stopping by here and leaving a comment!
This sounds a lot like my island in my kitchen – that attracts everything too! This was so funny! I loved this, “Probably getting up the nerve to jump.).” -Funny post and cute kid!
Hi Jennifer – very nice to meet you! Thanks so much for coming by – hope to see you again soon. Kellan
You get a WHOLE COUNTER? I am so envious. I have to hide my messiness inside all of the drawers. I fear reproach.
We’ve got the strangest assortment of items on our island. And the only connection among them, I think, is that they’re damaged. Or broken. Or missing parts or pieces. Or they may BE the missing pieces, but to what we’re not sure. Each one represents a chore that no one is willing to do, because that chore would be a) too time-consuming, and/or b) too unimportant as compared to all the other chores on our list.
Nice to “meet” you!
that made me laugh…i need to work on my chakras if that will cause my kitchen counter to be organized…that seems so much easier then FlyLady.
Oh, I would wait at least a year. Seriously. Your reputation is at stake.
I forgot to mention when I heard this story something about her room….. is it the Lazy DAUGHTER room? Is it always spotless? OK, I know she’s six, but FTLOG!
Oh, and thanks for the help on the commenting–you know my blog-challenged self!