A few weeks ago, one of my besties hosted me for two whole weeks while I worked on my grad degree intensives. Marla’s boys, (7, 9 & 11) shared a floor and a bathroom with me.
One morning, I was on my side of the bathroom brushing my teeth when Marla’s 7 year old came in to brush before school.
Him: “Your stuff is coming over on my side, Grace”.
Me: “Oh, I’m sorry little buddy, here let me move my junk.”
Him: “Wow. You really do keep your side pretty messy.”
Me: “Yeah (pause) that (pause) oh, well, I’ve been kind of overwhelmed this week and…
(he cuts me off)
…”I saw your room last night. It’s very very very messy,” he says matter of fact with a smile on his face.
He goes on, “makes me think you probably keep your own house pretty messy too.”
(I consider lying but instead I fess up)…
…”the truth is, little buddy…”
(He cuts me off again)
He walks out unjudging and completely neutral on the matter…”oh. I don’t care. Bye.”
I stand there ashamed.
I asked Marla if she cared that I made her guest room and her kids’ bathroom a raving mess.
“You and all your crap are leaving with you, so I don’t care”.
Isn’t she AMAZING?
The hubster & I have talking a lot about how to keep our house cleaner more often. A messy house can make his struggle with ADD unbearable. We have realized that -shock of all shocks- this is just another area where we see things completely differently.
I realized that I let my space at Marla’s get OUT OF CONTROL because I find living with some sort of mess a bit cozy. Fun, even. I realized Marla’s house became my rebellion against the strict cleanliness rules he’s been trying to press me into.
As if my messing up Marla’s house was saying, “so there, Dave! Look how messy I can be! Take that! How ya like me now, huh?!?!
It’s sooooo mature right? (Well, it wasn’t exactly on the conscious level, okay???) =)
Anyway, this last week I’ve been attempting to be a little bit cleaner a little bit more everyday and I must say…
ohhhhKAY. It is actually a very nice feeling.
All that to say…
I’m sorry to S, Z & C for making your bathroom into my woman cave.
What messy room of your place puts your right over the edge?
If you were Marla would you have KILLED me?
(Or at least threatened)?