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A Barely Open Door
By nsperfect71
08 March 2008

I'm still on my first day here and therefore still unsure about whether I'm posting in the right place!

This article would be best described as 'light reading', I feel. It is not designed to generate laughs; perhaps a few smiles here and there.


Fingers crossed.

 


  Just imagine it. You’re home at last after an 11 hour shift and a gruelling train journey. Relief washes over you as you open the front door and barely manage to squeeze in – a scooter, a pair of roller blades and a basketball are among the clutter behind it.  


You step into the living room and eye the sofa longingly, yearning to heave your body on it. But that’s all you manage to do: eye it. It is occupied by several innocent yet out of place objects...you know the sort…coats, newspapers, remote controls.


 Ah ...the joy of being home after a hard day’s work.  

 I love my home. I feel so lucky and privileged to own such a nice house. What with the wooden floors, the fancy fireplace and the new carpets upstairs, it must be one of the nicest I’ve lived in so far.  

 That said, the level of tidiness at my house leaves a lot to wish for. With two disorganized-by-nature adults, a soon to be teenager, a robust nine year old and an 8 month old baby all sharing  it, it sometimes feels futile to even try and tidy up. We are all complaining about the perpetual scruffiness – except the baby of course – and even he won’t be polite about it for long.  

 The kids notice – like I do – that other people’s homes are usually much neater than chez nous. They’ve never been to a friend’s place at a short notice or called at the neighbour’s house on a whim to find anything close to our familiar war zone.   

 The other day, my son visited a friend whose family he chose to describe as ‘the last people on earth who would actually tidy up just because their son is having a friend over’. He was impressed to find that even though the house was far from sparkling clean – which in itself proves the point – the chaos was minimal by our standards. Suffice it to say that the only objects he saw on the sofa were backsides of different sizes.  

 Now with us, it's a different story. We always clean up when a guest is coming over, irrespective of the age of said guest. Several years ago an important milestone was reached where we started inviting people over for the sole purpose of forcing ourselves to clean the house.   
 
 In the early days this was a cause for much mirth. A dialogue along the following lines would probably ensue between me and whoever would be at home at the time:
 
Me: Do you realize we haven’t vacuumed here/dusted the surfaces/ washed the kitchen floor since Barbara visited two weeks ago?’ 

 X: Yeah...and we’re cleaning now because Ewan and Jacob are coming over for tea, aren’t we? You’d think we NEVER clean unless people were coming over!
 
  Cue long stretches of carefree laughter accompanied by much shaking of heads and slapping of knees.  
 
 Nowadays it’s different. It’s more a case of:

 Me: Ok guys, let’s tidy up a bit, fetch the broom and grab a duster and the Windex’’.
 X: Why? Who’s coming over?
 
 I actually prefer it like that. Keep it real.   

  Despite the clutter, my home is my haven. I long to be in it when I’m away. When I’m at work, I never remember the clutter that prevents the front door from opening an inch wider than absolutely necessary for me to squeeze in, or the toys I have to swim through to get to the television.   

 I’ve worked so hard to be able to afford my home. And over the years there have been endless cycles of creating mess then trying –not always successfully – to sort it out. Still, I always feel a pang of pride whenever I let myself in through the barely open front door.

Reviews

Written by Phil (6439 comments posted) 9th March 2008
Enjoyed this. An easy and entertaining read that was nicely rounded. Domestic 'bliss' - or at least satisfaction, shone through. I wonder if the middle part could have been a tad longer. 
 
I couldn't care less about where you post - but for the record, this might have been better off in non-fiction. Here tends to be for comedy scripts. Blue ink and a fancy font don't make for the easiest on screen reading. A plain, unfussy font in black is much easier on the eye. 
 
Phil 
 
Phil's right
Written by fellpony (1522 comments posted) 9th March 2008
Non fiction is more the home for this. It's not comedy and it's not a script, but it's still good-humoured and pretty easy reading.
ARe you my husband?
Written by punchy (384 comments posted) 11th March 2008
This feels almost auto biographical, it is exactly how I live. 
This was a great read if not only to make people such as me feel less alien but because I think everyone can relate to it which is what always makes for good humour, generalisation is the basis of comedy. 
Nice one 
Paula

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