Enjoy The Mess

Who ever said boys and girls are similar, obviously never raised both. Raising two boys had its advantages – and its disadvantages, depending on your point of view. With the boys, there was no everlasting shower or bath, no hair curling and styling, no seven different outfits before you find the right one. With the boys, I could shout, “come on, let’s go!” and they were instantly calling “shotgun” for the front seat.

Yes, it has taken me quite a while, but I have finally learned that if we are going somewhere, Mickey needs an hour to get ready. That’s an hour after the hour long bath.

Sharing a bathroom with Mickey tests my unconditional love for her every day. Amidst the puddles of contact solution on the countertop, strands of foot-long hair wrap themselves round and round into never-ending circles, and every container in her basket lay open on the countertop, leaving the basket itself, empty. Two pairs of flip-flops, along with yesterday’s socks are scattered over the floor, strewn together with the nine million towels – some hung over the rods and some just laying limp on the floor. Her job is to clean the bathroom, and now you know why.

Driving past a nearby house, I think to myself. Their two girls are gone. Graduated from high school, college and moved on. I’ll bet their bathroom is as clean as a whistle.

So I take a deep breath and try to somehow enjoy the mess while I can.