There is something to be said about having a clean house…especially when ascertaining one is nearly impossible. While both kids were on adventures over the weekend, I took the opportunity to make my house look inviting and pleasing to the eye. Donning knee pads I scrubbed all the hard wood floors; dusted the ceiling and wall fixtures; vacuumed the downstairs carpets, washed out the bathroom floors and tub, cleaned and washed out the refrigerator; threw out tons of paper and garbage, before settling down on the sofa and calling it a night. Looking around my newly clean house, wanting to feel good about all my hard work, I couldn’t help but feel empty.

The house smelled of lemon pledge, not the boys deodorant (or lack thereof). I could finally see the top of our coffee tables, not the cluttered leftovers from kids. All the Christmas wrap was put away, remnants of life lived a few days earlier; gone.  All the couch cushions in their rightful place, not molding themselves to someone’s body.  Yes the house was clean….sterile…..boring.

I guess there is something to be said about living in a cluttered, dusty old house. At least its a well lived in house…or more importantly, it’s a well loved in home.




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