Anywhoo...when I met my husband, it was clear who the more orderly of the two of us were (hint: it wasn't me). It became glaringly obvious when he showed up at my apartment one day to help me clean. Before you declare 'Wow! That's true love!"...he was wearing this:
He thinks he's pretty funny. Don't humor him.
After we were married and moved in together, we would joke about our bedroom. There is a large closet with mirrors on my side of the bedroom, so if my side was messy, the mess was amplified by the mirrors. Walking through the door, you'd see Jeff's meticulously picked-up side, and then be smacked in the face with (the illusion of) a couple of mountains of clothes piled up in front of the hamper. Yes, I was one of those...I'd be two feet from where my clothes go...and that extra two feet was just too tiresome to conquer. So sue me.
Before you start judging, let's talk about what happened when I got pregnant.
Insanity, that's what happened.
They say that you go through a 'nesting' period where you want to clean and organize for the baby. Um...yea. But mine NEVER WENT AWAY. Ever since, clutter bothers me so intensely that I have even been known to organize my refrigerator...more than once a week.
I think it might be a sickness, you guys. Can one contract OCD?
Tonight, my 'known to be neat' husband was helping me pick up toys after Elijah went to bed. He always makes fun of me because I have a certain place for each toy.
Before I continue...there is a reason for this! I swear! I'm trying to teach Elijah that everything has a place, and how to put things back where they belong. How can you do that if everything is always in a different spot?! I am not crazy JEFFREY!
But honestly...here's how I know something has changed between the two of us. As I'm cleaning, Jeff put away a basket of toys...which I promptly moved to it's correct spot. Under his breath, I hear him whisper...
And it didn't stop there! He sing-songed 'toy nazi' over and over in the kitchen while I finished straightening up. He makes me feel so good about myself sometimes.
Since I'm now the OCD one, does that officially make him the slob?
I think pigs may be flying out my butt. Or Hell has frozen over. One of the two.