I have a problem. I hide stuff. Not intentionally…but like, when someone calls and they’re heading over unexpectedly, I go into Ninja mode. Well, more like a neurotic Ninja mode. I start in the kitchen. Dishes in the sink? Not on my watch! Into the dishwasher they go. Papers on the kitchen table? Not anymore! Those are stuffed in drawers to be found…never.
I run into the downstairs bathroom. Bathroom trash? Nope. It’s gotta go. I bag it and toss it outside, and run a quick Lysol wipe across the sink as I run to the next room, hair a’flyin. It’s on to the dining room. Oh no. This is bad. This is the spot where hubby leaves his briefcase, newspapers, bills, and all things clutter. One sweep of my hand and it’s all off the table and into a box. (Note to self: always have a box handy or you lose time trying to find something to dump everything into)
Take said clutter to the toy room until the visitor leaves. Sure, I’ll remember it’s there. Sure, I’ll find it later. Scan the toy room. Not good. Too many Monster High Dolls. Too many Shopkins. Too much stuff. But wait, I do have 3 kids and I can’t possibly get this done right now. Kick dolls and toys into the corner or under the sofa. Nobody looks under there anyway. Okay, I can see the carpet. Moving on.
I make my way up the stairs, taking two steps at a time. I’m seriously kicking ass with my timing! I go from room to room to make sure the beds are made. No laundry on the floor. Check. Bathroom. Check. Wait…close shower curtain and fix throw rug. Check.
Back downstairs. Candles…where are my candles? Light, it. Hurry up. Nobody needs to know that my oldest just stunk out the entire first floor with his fart compilation.
Okay, scan the floor. Good. Neat and clean. I’ll find everything later. Okay. I’m ready.
The doorbell rings…
I open the door.