Scurrying Out the Door on a Crazy Morning

On Sunday morning, as we were swirling out the door in a giant hurricane of shoes and cups and bags and coats, I looked back over my shoulder and my heart sank to see the wake we were leaving behind. Cereal on the floor under the dining table, dishes in the sink, trash overflowing, pajamas strewn across the living room.  In that moment I was seriously tempted to pause and affix a note to the refrigerator: “To whom it may concern: In case I die before I come home, please know that I don’t usually leave the house looking like this.”

But then I thought soberly of how many days in the previous week (okay, much longer than that…) I’d had the Exact Same Thought and I was forced to admit: I DO usually leave the house looking like that.

Ooof.

TOMBSTONE

How the tidy have fallen!  What happened to the girl who used to pull all the books off of the bookshelves and reorganize them just for fun?  What happened to the girl who used to wipe down the bathroom with a Clorox wipe every morning before work?

Oh, right.  She now lives with two children.  Her life is full of many lovely blessings, but a spotless house is not one of them right now!

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8 responses to “Scurrying Out the Door on a Crazy Morning

  1. Yes! It just doesn’t happen. Where is the cleaning fairy when you need her? Especially in my laundry room! I love coming home to a clean house, but leaving is always so hard anyway. It is rare that it is picked up, let alone clean!

    • My laundry room is the worst, too! And I have to walk through it to get to the garage, so it’s the last thing I see when I leave. Yuck!

      I agree, I LOVE coming home to a clean house. But it happens less and less these days! Oh, well…

  2. When your children are grown, they will not remember the cereal on the floor or where they left their pajamas. They will remember that you invested in their souls & loved them. Priorities. You are making wise choices. 🙂

  3. Many years ago, before kids, I worked at a bank. Sometimes when our army husbands were gone, a friend would come home with me on the spur of the moment. I would always apologize profusely and say I didn’t usually leave the house so messy. After a while, I finally told her I knew her well enough to stop lying to her–I always leave the house like that! And guess what–she still liked me and still came frequently!

  4. That is typically how my house looks too on the way out the door, as you have recently seen. Wish it wasn’t so! (But comforting to know I’m not the only one).

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