You all know by now that I have issues with dirt. Specifically grit and dirt on floors. Matter of fact, just saying the word "grit" makes my left eye twitch. I put up with clutter and the general disorder of daily life with children in a small house fairly philosophically. But dirt, grime and grit on my floors, food leavings on the dining room table and dust on the furniture is my kryptonite. I can't stand it. It really makes me crazy. I'm surprised my vacuum cleaner is still working, with all the mileage I've put on it in the last eight years (weddings present). For instance, today I've vacuumed the entire house twice. I also vacuumed it on Sunday afternoon. And Saturday. See? I'm telling you, it's an unhealthy obsession. Part of the family OCD issues making their appearance, I reckon.
Also. My children are not allowed to play in Mommy and Daddy's bedroom. I have been censured for this. I specifically remember one friend (who shall remain nameless and unashamed) who waxed eloquent over her memories of hours spent cuddled in her parent's large bed, reading and playing with dolls and other toys and romping in childish delight. Uh-uh. Nope. Not my bed. This bed (I'm sitting here in bed with my laptop as I write) is for Other Things. I will not go there at this moment, but I'm sure you can just fill in the blank. This room is my sanctuary. I love my children and accept the fact that for the next fifteen or twenty years our house will be filled with all manner of kid paraphanalia on every stackable surface. BUT! Our bedroom is for OUR stuff. No kid things allowed.
Trust me, I am going somewhere with the above two seemingly completely unrelated paragraphs.
This afternoon, while I was teaching, the children took their snack of crackers (*shudder*) and sesame sticks (*twitch*) into MY BED AND ATE IT THERE.
Also on my bed was a load of clean, but not yet folded laundry.
There were crumbs on the floor. All over the floor. There were crumbs all over the duvet. There were crumbs under the duvet on my cozy fluffy blanket. There were crumbs on the bedside table. There were crumbs ON MY PILLOW!! There were crumbs in my shoes sitting beside the bed. There were crumb-y children covered in crumbs ROLLING AROUND IN THE CLEAN LAUNDRY and making tiger and kitty noises at me when I walked in an hour later.
*hysterical laughter and tears*
Tiger and kitty noises!!!