Crap. I Think It Might Be Me.
It’s me. I hate to admit it, but it is. I am the one who passed down the disorganized gene to our offspring. The evidence is all around.
1. My bedside table is cluttered. Mister’s is not. But I actually read and I use night creams and need a glass of water beside the bed and reading glasses. That one is apples and oranges.
2. My closet is overcrowded and shoved. Mister’s is not. Wait! He has three closets and I have one. Scratch that. I am doing just fine on that one. He is the closet hog.
3. I finally discovered what Mister has been saying all along. I am the one leaving the cap off the toothpaste (don’t tell him he is right please). Having said that, we have three power toothbrushes in our master bathroom. Two of which are not mine. The one that is mine has a label on it saying ‘This is not yours’. There are two things we can learn from this. 1. The reason the label is there is that Mister has asked on more than one occasion if my toothbrush is his (remember he has two others). 2. That I own a label maker. I own two of them to be exact. Case in point: I am the organized one.
4. I have 7 coats hanging in the foyer and Mister has 2. Again, I am going to have to justify here. His attire is essentially the same every day. Suit jacket, winter coat. Mine changes with the whether. Whether I am headed to the gym. Whether I am going to be with adults. Whether I am volunteering at the school. Whether I am walking the dog. Whether I am wearing jeans. Whether it is snowing. Whether it is sunny. Justified. Next!
5. If you look at our calendars, mine is organized chaos. Mister’s calendar includes big blocks of time for things like lunch and working on something specific. I don’t have time for scheduling anything except exercise and girls nights. The rest is for household shit that comes up (Mister would argue, that it all can be planned for. Who is he kidding?).
Who had to drop what they were doing and get a marble ledge for the shower installer? Who had to drive by the school to drop off a lunch because Mister forgot to ask MisterJr if he had packed one? Who just spent 9 days weeding through insurance papers when it was never on her list to do? See, unscheduled managed chaos. What time did I eat lunch you ask? It wasn’t in my calendar, so I forget. I am pretty sure I ate though, but I’m not positive.
6. My to do list is on a scrap piece of paper and Mister’s is neatly in a book he carries around. I can always add to my to do list. Mister is pooched if he is in the bathroom and remembers he has to do something. I can get a lipstick and tissue and I am good to go, after I go.
In my favour, Mister can not tell you where the pasta is, where he can find the kid’s lunch snacks or where he can find sticky tape. Come to think of it, maybe it is Mister who passed down the disorganized gene? I really should have checked on that before I said ‘I Do’ because he is totally screwing up our kids.