Peek-A-Boo Beans

It sounds like our awesome economy is going to get worse (ouch) before it gets better. That's no fun, but hey, it's always nice to have another reason not to sleep at night besides paranoia. We're pretty familiar with the concept of "worse before it gets better" around here too. Take Monday, for example.

On Monday, as is the case many other days, the house was in shambles. I'd been out and about the three previous days and had seriously neglected pretty much everything other than the Biscuit's and Beans' immediate needs. In other words, laundry was done but in big, wrinkly mounds on the sofa, recliner and every other surface raised far enough from the floor to prevent it collecting enough dirt and dog hair to merit another wash. Food had been prepared but the dishes were "saved for later" (isn't that a cute way of putting it?) and the floors were, oddly enough, not terrible but in need of another visit from the Darling Dyson Dear.

Pretty bad, right? Sounds like it couldn't get any worse, right? Hahahahaha! If only that had been the case!

Hubby had had it. He was all done with the messiness. Every so often, when his wife (that's me) lets the messiness get the better of her and spends more time blogging than cleaning house, the creature who courted me rears his handsome, lunch-box-shaped head. This is the Bachelor Creature, the one who would hurriedly stuff everything somewhere and wipe down all visible areas with something that would make his place smell lemony-fresh so pre-married me would think, "Oh! He knows how to clean!!!". And that he does. He just really doesn't care for it-- kind of like someone else I kow.

Anyway, Hubby and I were both thinking that the place couldn't look much worse. Craps were everywhere but the worst offenders were everything in the kitchen and all the clothes covering each and every available seating surface in the living room. Hubby requested oh-so-nicely for me to please put away the Beans' clothes because that particular messiness was giving him the howling fantods. Knowing that howling fantods are no trifling matter, I respectfully set about fulfilling Hubby's very reasonable request but first, I wanted to explain how so many heaps of clothes arrive and overstay their welcome in the living room.

"I can't put them away while the Beans are up because the closet door has to be open. When the closet door's open, they yank everything out and scatter it all over the floor of their room, the hall... stuff gets everywhere," I began. "It would only take a couple of minutes if you kept an eye on them so I could just get it done," I suggested.

In retrospect, this must have been the point at which things went awry for me. You see, I think Hubby and I differ on our respective interpretations of the phrase "keep and eye on them". I think it means, "play with the Beans, sit with them and read to them, sing with them, keep them occupied and away from whatever it is I'm trying to accomplish at your request". I think Hubby thinks it means "I'll stand here on the other side of the gate until I have to pee or go outside and then they'll find where you are and proceed to make a bigger mess than the one you were originally trying to clean". I may be wrong. But I kind of doubt it.

So, guess what happened? Yep! I started hanging up all those Beanclothes and a couple of minutes later...

Parki delished on black patent Mary Janes but Pipsi had the hardest time choosing between a bathing suit and furry pants. Decisions, decisions! I'm proud of her though, because look at all she had to choose from:

...and that's all that would fit in the frame.

Don't worry, everything is now in its place but obviously we had a mess of epic proportions. When I hear about everything happening, economically speaking, I can't help but visualize the Beans playing in the closet with a few toys while the rest of the closet's guts are strewn about all over the floor. And I think about how every mess is manageable and after the exhausting cleanup life goes on about its business and we get to see things like...

The offspring of Cousin It and Chuck Barris, AND...

Said offspring following written instructions, AND

Nick Nolte's mugshot.

Nick Nolte-- now there's a mess I would never, EVER want to clean.