What a mess!

Let's break this down...because it's important for you to know I believe, that we have spots for these things.  It's one of my great mantras in life, "a place for everything and everything in its place", one that is the stuff of many future blogs as I work to explain my years of chaos in this house full of people who don't embrace this ideology.  But this....this is just too much.  Let's start with the 3 jackets, two on chairs, one on the table. We have a coat closet and coat hooks in a perfectly acceptable "hidden" room.  Then there's the shirt which can only be considered a fourth jacket which must explain why it's hanging on a third chair.  Work shoes, cheer shoes, cheer pillow.  The great miracle here is that her makeup mirror and all her cosmetics are not strategically positioned on the counter directly across from this table as this is completely the norm.  Now in some ways it's completely understandable.  These are things she needs at her ready.  And were she to keep them in her room there's not a chance on God's green earth that she would find them in a timely manner. #imscaredtogointhere 

We go around and around about this, my daughter and I.  It's never too serious because she's a snarky one and can make me laugh.  I quickly forget how much she's actually aggravating me.  But the real truth of the matter is, what does it really matter?  It takes me 30 seconds to pick it all up and run it to its proper home.  I tell her that too but then I have to listen to her explain to me why it actually takes much longer than that and that whole thing takes about 5 minutes and it's painful.  Now I know some of you are thinking "well no you don't have to listen to that" and I applaud you on the raising of your firstborn.  They'll be exactly who they are supposed to be because of it.  But this is my loosey goosey third child.  She's charming and funny and makes me laugh way more than she causes me heartburn.  She also has a 4.0, sings like an angel, fasts from dating, and wears headphones so she can't hear the trash her mother is watching during the Bachelor.  Probably while she was reading the Bible.  She's my heart and frankly the thought of her stuff not being on this table in the not so distant future, leaves a knot in the pit of my stomach.  

Suddenly I can't wait for this evening to get here so I can tackle her next "mess".