I need to write this list.
As I sit here at my computer I’m surrounded by a half-finished floor puzzle.
There are crushed rice bubbles underneath my seat, and an old piece of cheese stuck to the table from this morning.
None of my furniture matches and even I have started using the plastic IKEA toddler plates instead of the Maxwell Williams gold rimmed dinner service.
The dirty laundry has become co-mingled with the clean laundry and the sink is full of dirty dishes. I realise it might have been a week since the table saw a wash cloth.
I’m going to lose my mind.
I have to come to grips with the fact that, despite being 31, my house looks like a couple of undergraduate students from the Faculty of Engineering live here fast. So, here goes:
Eight reasons it’s totally legit for my house to resemble a pig sty.
1. We have the best toys ever. Seriously. Duplo, a train set, playdough, colouring pencils and a George Pig stuffed toy that really needs to see a bath tub. Frankly, if those toys are strewn across the lounge room floor that just makes them easier to access.
2. The clean clothes were just gonna get taken off hangers and out of drawers anyway. Leaving them in baskets in the walk in wardrobe is skipping an unnecessary step between washing them and wearing them again. I’m saving time and energy. I could be a business efficiency consultant with innovation like that.