Tales of the housekeeper, story #4

On Tuesday night without fail we de-clutter our house. This process usually takes between 1 and 2 hours depending on how messy we have been. We do this in anticipation of the arrival of Rosalina the housekeeper on Wednesday morning.

And by de-clutter, I mean every scrap of everything. Not a thing can be left out. Not a toy out of place. Not an article of clothing on the floor. Not a pencil on the counter. You see anything this is not bolted down, or in some type of container goes into the black housekeeping hole. What do I mean by that? Well for example if a pot holder were to be left on the kitchen counter, in the process of cleaning Rosalina would not place the pot holder in the drawer next to the oven with all the other pot holders, it would end up in some obscure place like a drawer in the bathroom, taking us months to find the pot holder, and the pot holder would probably be found in the process of looking for some other item that she misplaced that would logically be found in the bathroom. This is why I am forced to de-clutter once a week.

Last week Rick stayed at my house with the kids while I went to Idaho. I forgot to tell him to de-clutter.....big mistake. You see I was not the only person out of town in my neighborhood, my neighbors were out of town as well. Lauren had the job of watching their house, feeding their kittens, and keeping their mail while they were gone. On Tuesday Lauren dutifully gathered the mail and brought it over to our house and placed it on the dining room table, which is where we always keep their mail when we have charge over their house.

Rosalina arrived on Wednesday morning and by the time she left the Jackson's mail was no longer on the dining room table. Lauren called me in a panic. I told Lauren to calm down, and start looking around the house. At least Rosalina does not throw stuff away, she just reorganizes it, so I knew it was somewhere in the house. Lauren searched and searched to no avail, everyday stressing more and more about loosing the mail.

By the time I arrived home on Sunday there were two stacks of mail in the dining room, one for me and one for the Jackson's. Although we did not specifically find the Jackson's Tuesday pile of mail, Rick believed it was mixed in with mine and ended up in the laundry room, and was later sorted into their pile. Who knows, perhaps in a few weeks I will open the freezer and be greeted by a Pottery Barn catalogue addressed to my neighbor.....