This evening I restored order to my pajama drawer.
Since our two-year-old still sleeps in our room, my usual modus operandi at bedtime is to paw through the drawer in the dark hopefully pulling out items until I get something that feels like a match. Then I stuff the rest back into the drawer in the jumble. Every once in a while when the drawer will shut no more, I sort and discard and fold. This evening when I was done it looked good! So darned good that I started thinking about other drawers. Cupboards. Shelves. Even the floors under beds.
Just how would it feel if my whole house was as neat as that pajama drawer?
Certainly such a goal — such a home — would be good for my soul.
The idealistic side of me wanted to whip out the cleaning supplies and the bags to fill for Goodwill and get moving.
Then the practical side of me kicked in. 15 minutes per drawer times umpteen drawers in this house.
Just then came a call from the 9 year olds. “Mom!! Aren’t you coming to play scum with us?”
I scampered off happily, leaving my drawers behind me.
One is enough for today.