Sometimes it’s as simple as discovering my daughter laying on my feet as she eats her breakfast, and other times I swear I woke up in the Walternate universe as the redheaded Olivia Dunham.
Like that one morning back in September of last year when I went to grab one of my many photo coffee cups of the kids and discovered that my pantries no longer existed as they once had.
Now they were above the floor toy boxes for headless baby dolls, broken iPod nano’s and lego Star Wars space ships.
There was also that time during the change of season from,“there’s sweat in my eyes” to “Mom, I can see my breath” when I decided to check the closets for hand me downs before I bought any more hoodies that the kids would just ditch by 9am.
Uh…where are the clothes?
Oh, I see…in the linen closet where the towels used to go.
But, where are all of the…no, never mind. I see them. They’re covering the candle wax stains on the living room floor.
What happened to my scented candles?
Oh…the trash is full.
So I looked at my husband and said, “Ya know dear, when we moved in this house we only had 4 kids, not six, and I’m pretty sure there was a backyard and a hall closet in the description of the house. Maybe it’s time for a bigger place.”
I bit my lip. “No, I haven’t finished it yet.”
“Then home sweet home it is until you finish your book or the 5 year old gets on Star Search. Which ever comes first.”
“Star search was cancelled like a dozen years ago” I whispered.
Yesterday when it was time for Mr. Madhouse to leave for work, he leaned over the bed to give me my morning kiss, but before he finished with the usual, “bye I love you,” he added, “Hey honey…have you seen the Durango? I’m sure I’m parked it in the garage last night.”
I rolled over and yawned, “What garage? We have 37 bikes, 2 freezers, one which is broken, 3 bunk beds, 1 queen size bed frame, 9 mattresses, 2 dressers, 3 desks and our RV in there.”
“Check around the corner from the park. That’s where I put the Yukon after the 5 year old’s battery powered Barbie car died and needed my parking spot.”
Since he didn’t come home until his normal time I assumed he found the vehicle after all.
But I’m thinking after this morning, I just may make some headway.
Because our home no longer has any storage space, or a place to sit and have dinner, I decided it was time to pack and donate some of our stuff to make my point. Including daddy’s KISS posters, G.I. Joe’s and race cars from the 1970′s.
I gave the kids strict instructions to have all of the junk in the closets, medicine cabinets, under their beds and behind the toilets thrown into big, black bags and set aside for a curb side pick up.
Wait! Where’s my nasal spray?
And just as I glanced towards my husband for help he said, “Looking for something dear? Maybe you should look through those bags. You never know, you may find something that matters.” And leaned over and gave me a kiss.
He wins…we’re staying. For now…