Wherein I am June Cleaver…

…sans pearls.

It’s true, I can be a bit smug, at times, over my relatively clean house. I mean, especially if you consider the three kids and the fact that we homeschool… which means that we are home… a LOT… I typically feel like I keep a fairly decent house. It’s not decadent. It’s certainly not spotless. But I would rarely classify it as gross or disgusting, which equals clean-enough in my book.

Of course, some people have higher standards… which is an altogether different subject.

Today, however, we got one of those 6am phone calls that nobody ever really likes to get. Bubba hubby’s uncle, was being transferred to the hospital HERE, in our town. Never a good sign. But of course, anyone and everyone was welcome to stay here if they wanted/needed to. This is one of the beauties of family, as far as I’m concerned. You always know there will be a couch to sleep on (or at least floor space, if it comes to that). Frankly, I was feeling good to be in a position to BE that kind of family for the situation. I have no healing powers to provide, but I do have a shower and extra blankets.

At 6am, however, as my hubby was cheerfully opening our doors to anyone who needed a place to stay, I was taking a good look around my relatively clean house.

The kitchen counter said, “DO you realize you have not actually CLEARED me in something like six months?”

The dust bunnies on the television set put their thumbs in their dusty little ears, waggled their fingers, and stuck their gross little tongues out at me.

And the bathroom… well, let’s just say it said unspeakable things to me about the state of its cracks and crevices.

So I commenced to clean.

Now my house is truly beautiful… and I’d like for everyone to believe it’s always this way… if I could just get Bubba Hubby to stop declaring in his loudest voice where everyone can hear him, “MY GAWD! This place is amazing! It’s SOOOO clean!”