A bin full of it

Today Jen spent almost the whole day at my house helping me clean out my front hall closet.  It was a mess.  We had two hours before any kids would have to be picked up from school, we had to hurry. 

It was not enough time.  So we picked them all up, fed them, then caved and allowed them to watch a mid afternoon movie so we could get the job done.  Everything was out, open, in large piles ALL OVER THE LIVING ROOM.  It had to get done.

I couldn’t believe the amount of garbage.  Jen is really good at throwing things away, I’m not.  That’s why I enlist her expertise.  She and my mother in law would rival each other as to who could/would and wants to clean out their closets most often.  They have been born with a way to cut through the crap with laser like precision; again I don’t have that skill.

By the end of the day the closet was clean and ready to become my new “War Room”.  This will be the place where all the kid’s school and outerwear items have a home.  There will be a white board to post all school activities, wall pockets for all their homework, mail slots for us, places to hang backpacks and coats and bins for hats and mittens.  Ohhhh the joy!

As we were trudging through the knee high piles of shit I said to Jen, “It’s not like I’m a disorganized person, I don’t get how this happens.”  Her response, “You know how you think my messy handwriting doesn’t fit how anal (that’s my descriptor) I am, I feel the same about you and your closets.”

What doesn’t seem to mesh with the way you live?

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