…from the person I become when we’re expecting a houseful of people.
Second Daughter graduates from high school on Saturday, you see. To celebrate her milestone we’re having an open house on Sunday to which we’ve invited the whole family, the whole church, and a whole bunch of other very nice people.
Which would be all fine and dandy if I didn’t have a terrible case of the “company’s coming” bug.
I started at the beginning of this week in an organized sort of way, determined to do a little each day and above all not to get too nutty about all this. Problem is, every time my list starts getting whittled down, I look up and see more stuff that I never even notice.
Weeds in our quarter-acre of flowerbeds. Cobwebs in the eaves. Sun-rotted lawn swings. Fingerprinted windows. Dinged-up baseboards. Tired kitchen flooring. Bare patches in the lawn. You know, all the things that prove we have a life beyond lawn care and home decorating, and that the life we have is populated by children.
Our guests are well aware that we have ten children, of course. They’re coming to celebrate, not evaluate. And yet the part of me that wants to welcome them also longs to be able to offer them House Beautiful. OK, well…House Decent, anyway.
I’m contemplating a run to Home Depot in the morning, for mulch, a couple of stepping stones, and maybe a new lawn swing to replace the one that’s falling to bits.
It’s a sickness.
I know this all isn’t really necessary and yet I just. can’t. quit.
(ooops, gotta run…I just spotted some more weeds.)