Jen Singer
Believe me, I don't like the loose hem, and I hate the Scotch tape because it clearly wasn't made to rub against skin. But I know that if I tried to sew the hem myself, it'll look like a first grader went at it with a dull needle. And it would be pathetic to take it to a tailor, who, no doubt, could fix it on her sewing machine in about 45 seconds while I tried to appear not entirely useless. Maybe I could do some light filing or Google something for her.
Certainly, my mother-in-law could sew it for me. Heck, she could sew me a dozen new pairs of shorts and matching outfits for my boys and perhaps a tent. She is a retired seamstress, after all. But it would only serve to remind her that her daughter-in-law - who writes for Good Housekeeping - isn't all that good at housekeeping.
When I told her that I was afraid to sew my son's badges on his Cub Scouts uniform, she replied, "Why? It's easy." To which I said, "How about you write a 750-word essay on why it's easy?" Then she mumbled something in German that didn't sound like a compliment, and I added, "Why? It's easy."
We're all good at something.
The truth is that I have a hard time keeping up with my house. Most days, the laundry is piled up on top of the dryer or at the foot of my bed. My children have learned to hunt for matching socks first thing in the morning. I'm grateful for summer, because, most days, we can all wear sandals, thereby increasing our chances of finding socks the next day.
I can clean just fine, and I'm not alone in emptying garbage cans, loading the dishwasher or doing the laundry around here. But there are still piles of stuff to go through that have been lying around since our home remodeling ended last fall. We just never seem to get to them. I guess we have other things to do.
A friend of mine complained Sunday night that she didn't get anything done around the house this weekend. Yet it didn't occur to me to get anything done. This holiday weekend, there were picnics to attend and fireworks to watch and swimming to do - all at the expense of the house. We did manage to straighten up a bit before my family came over Sunday for a picnic, but I didn't obsess over the dust on the dining room table or the laundry piled up, this time on my bed.
To me, it's just not important enough to take time away from the fun things to expend a lot of energy on keeping house. As Phyllis Diller said, "Cleaning your house while your kids are still growing is like shoveling the sidewalk before it stops snowing." My obituary certainly won't read, "She kept a clean house," and that's fine with me. The Scotch tape, though is starting to drive me crazy.
Good Housekeeping
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