Bad housekeeping

I confess: I am a horrible housekeeper. Even before we had the boys, the house was never completely free of clutter, and it never sparkled. Now it's definitely worse. By the time I have the boys in bed, it's so late at night that I have no energy for doing much cleaning at all.

Since I'm too lazy to take pictures (and a little embarrassed), let me give you a quick walk through via words.

Before you even enter my home, you'll notice that the lawn needs to be mown and there are lots of weeds growing around the front porch. Ring the bell. Oh, but watch out for the spiderwebs. Every night a clan of spiders weaves it's webs near our front door, and I have yet to figure out how to get rid of them once and for all. Anyway, you rang the bell, so....

Hello! Come on in. Please don't trip over the pile of shoes that keep the door from fully opening. Just step this way, past the pile of workbags and the chair holding all our coats, and try not to slip on the Hot Wheels, train tracks, random flashcards from 20 different sets, all of which litters the living room floor.

I'd ask you to sit down, but I see you're wearing black pants. That's not good, not good at all. You see, we have two dogs who are tricolored and black pants pick up all the hair that they have deposited on the sofa and armchairs. So maybe you'd better stand and just keep going with the tour.

Come on into the dining room, which I think has a table in it, but I haven't seen its surface in months now. Make a right, and there's the kitchen. I don't have a dishwasher or all the dirty dishes you're seeing in the sink right now would be hiding inside it. Sorry 'bout that.

Oh, you'd like a drink? Sure, but don't watch as I open the fridge. It's scary in there.

Let's go down the stairs into the family room, shall we? Oh, you'll want to duck under that cobweb that's hanging from the highhat. Steer yourself right about the tub of old Halloween costumes and the bins of unfolded laundry, then make a right at the old electric dryer that I still need to post on Craigslist, and you can hook a quick left just after passing the large travel-system stroller (it's usually in the bed of Ken's pickup truck, but it can't be in there now while the old old furnace and our neighbor's old bay window are in there, silly). Now you can sit down on the brand-new couch because we obsessively cover it with blankets to keep it from getting destroyed by the dogs and kids. And there's Ken's leather recliner. It has a massage feature in the back and butt areas, but I never get a chance to sit down so I'll have to take Ken's word for it that it's quite relaxing. You'll see he's built a fire in the fireplace.

I know it's cozy, but let's move on. There's much more to see. Oh, yeah, under the pile of empty beer cans is the bar. It's a wet bar, but the sink hasn't worked since we bought the house. Don't worry: It's somewhere on the to-do list.

Well, I think I'm embarrassed enough now. I'd show you the bedrooms and bathroom, but it's really all just more of the same. Random stuff kinda strewn everywhere. Staying right where it landed the last time its user set it down. Oh, you don't want to stay and hang out? Heck, I don't blame you. It stresses me out, too.

Well, let me show you out the downstairs front door since you came in upstairs. Just watch out for the overgrown shrub outside the door and the river rock in the driveway that has made its way out of the planting beds during past rainstorms. If you can safely make it to your car, I bid you a good night!