My life is pretty busy.
I spend my days at school and my evenings chasing kids and doing school work. Weekends are more of the same.
I could make stuff up, but really, this pretty much sums up my schedule.
So, it comes as no surprise that my house has become extremely disorganized and a breeding ground for clutter. What did surprise me however was the recent announcement from my partner in crime, my wife, that she was going to take on the project of organizing the house.
Hallelujah!!!
As I am an all around great guy and fantastic husband in every way, I threw my full support behind her as she tackled this task. (Note to readers: I'm busy and can't possibly commit time to this, so my full support equals staying out of the way, doing my best not to criticize and refraining from going through the garbage bag looking for stuff that she's thrown out that I really want to keep).
I'm seeing real progress each time I come home and she's emptied another drawer of surprises, sorted and purged. Garbage bags are waiting for me each night, filled with "stuff" we had held onto for God knows what reason. Space that hasn't been available since moving day screams "hello Rick!!! Come and enjoy me!!!" (the voices seemed strange to me at first too, but after a while they seem warm and inviting).
I've had every reason to believe that we were headed to clutter-free utopia.
Until...
I walked into the kitchen and saw...
The headless ceramic rooster.
Allow me to explain. The rooster had been a gift from my wife's cousin when we moved into our first house. She said that roosters brought good luck and I never had any reason to doubt her, so I took this as the truth. Ok, so I always meant to verify this, but didn't.
The rooster lived on the kitchen counter in four different houses (including our current home), bringing us good luck on a daily basis, until one day his luck ran out and he fell to the floor and his head fell off. As much as the rooster had been a positive influence on my life, also carrying sentimental value as a gift from my wife's cousin, a headless ceramic rooster meets my definition of garbage in every way. For reasons I cannot understand, the headless ceramic rooster has continued to live on my counter for a period of two years!!! No longer does the sight of the rooster provide me with a smile and the knowledge that he alone is responsible for my good fortune on this earth. No, he is headless and quite honestly just brings me down.
Why oh why can't he be thrown out???? If not now, when???
There are no answers to these questions, only quiet mumblings about how she can't bring herself to put him out of his misery.
I'm no expert on organizing and de-cluttering, but somehow I can't believe that hanging onto a headless ceramic rooster can ever be part of an effective plan.
Perhaps I'm wrong? Only time with tell.
1 comments:
Rick, your wife totally has a point here. Let me explain … When I was 15 I went to some event for McDonald's (I worked there at the time) and I won a BIG cermanic Grimace (the purple milkshake dude) piggy bank!
Well being young and all I was a bit careless and when I got home that night I opened up the box only to realize I broke him, his head was in shambles. I know he is not real, but I felt bad, I never let him live his life full of pennies. To this day (yes, almost 8 years later) he still lives at the top of my closet in his box because of my guilt. So, my point here is - let the rooster stay!!!!!
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