HIGHS and WOAHS of Moving In

HIGHS and WOAHS of Moving In.

La-lala-lala-de-da I hum as I put the plates away. Twirl, Twirl. Pick up the mixing bowls and place them ever so gracefully in the cupboard, foot outstretched like a ballerina. La-lala-lala. Well, hello there Mrs. Mouse. Yes, you can put away this towel. Why, thank you for this apron, little finches. I wouldn't want to dirty my beautiful dress. Did you know Mrs. Cleaver had one just like it? And thank you for shining my pumps, Mr.Rabbit. Hubberkins sure likes to see his reflection off the toe.

NOT!

I moved into my husband's condo. I say "moved" like I have all of my stuff put away - ha, ya right. My guest bedroom looks like a special episode of  Hoarders. New this week: Bride fills guest bedroom with so much stuff she loses new husband - last seen going in for more toilet paper.  Wan-wah. My family is probably reading this thinking: "No, you're so organized. I don't believe it". Ya, well, believe it, sista. There's plenty of time to be organized when you're a lonely 'ole college student braiding and unbraiding your hair every Friday night.

Now I've got better things to do: the cooking, the cleaning, the cleaning (yah, I know I put in there, twice  - dirtiness is like that ugly picture of you from junior high -just when you think it's gone, your brother pulls it out for show and tell).

And then there's the laundry. New husbands aren't so keen on waiting three weeks for clean underwear. Come on, man. Where's your sense of adventure?

No, you grody people, I don't wear the same three pairs of underwear for three weeks. I happen to have enough pairs to last me that length of time. So-ha. How else do I know when it's time to throw a load in?

Yah, yah, yah. I know you all think I shouldn't let my laundry pile up until it's as tall as the bathroom door. My husband agrees. So now I'm doing laundry twice a week and I ain't got no stinking time to organize! So Aunt Jane, when you come over, do as the boys do when they're at the latrine : keep your eyes up. 

If you think you're a doofus, read about my Dishwashing Sage: Dummies in the Kitchen.