It’s officially the summer season, and most people are excited about entertaining.
The grills begin to light up. Invites come at a moment’s notice for water play dates and barbecue chicken dinners.
Homes are opened to the masses to spend those hot summer days with food, friends and fun.
Well...most homes. I am too embarrassed to invite anyone inside my house who isn’t blood-related or those who have been within my friend circle since childhood.
“No, you cannot come over,” I said, as my friend informed me she was on her way to my house. “This place is a wreck. I’ll just meet you in town. You know I don’t let anybody come over here.”
The eyebrows and judgments would go through the roof if anyone came to the Patterson home right now.
Kids are out of school. Baseball and softball are in full swing. And chaos reigns in my life right now.
I caught myself dreaming that I would clean up the pig pen that is called home. But who was I kidding?
The second a child hears a vacuum cleaner turn on, they turn into Hansel and Gretel, leaving crumbs everywhere as if they can’t find their way back to the kitchen without a food trail.
I stepped into a full slice of pizza yesterday when I tried to put a load of clothes in the washer. And I have been digging chip crumbs out of my recliner for five years straight.
“Listen, there is gonna be a new rule around here,” I shouted to my kids. “If you eat, it’s at the kitchen table. Y’all ain’t going through the house eating like you are at a buffet.”
It wasn’t two minutes later...I found a half-eaten corn dog inside the dish washer.
And if the Health Department knew what kind of science experiments were taking place inside the lost sippy cup I discovered...the whole street would be under quarantine.
“Why am I finding 15 sippy cups under your bed,” I asked my son James. “Son, this is getting ridiculous. How hard is it to put your cups in the sink?”
After I went on the porch to try to decide whether I wanted to laugh or cry about the situation, I attempted to go back to my house cleaning.
“Momma, I’m bored,” James whined. “There’s nothing to do.”
“Oh, well I can find you something to do,” I replied. “Go get that feather duster and start wiping these cabinets down.”
At that moment James disappeared, and I didn’t see him again until the sun went down.
Taking a break, I hid in the bathroom to sneak a Little Debbie snack in silence. But once I started looking around the room, I almost choked on that sweet goodness.
“Who dumped the shampoo out on the floor,” I asked with a shout. “And who got a Sharpie out on my tub?”
No child ever admits to these things. But I noticed the baby Jase had black ink marks on his hand, and his hair looked greasy but smelled like strawberries.
For the record, I never got the house cleaned. In fact, I am going to start over again tonight.
It is a never-ending battle during the summer. Kids go crazy and forget proper hygiene. And parents lose their minds and possibly some hair as well.
So, if you want to hang out with the Patterson crew this summer, just tell me where I can meet you in town.
If you show up at my house, I might just put a broom in your hand.
