Love Finds You in Messy Drawers (not that kind)


Here’s the thing, everyone knows that I am not exactly the queen of organization. So be it. There is a two-foot high pile on my desk that at this moment is teetering and will probably fall to the floor if I don’t remedy the situation. I will, I promise. But first I wanted to relate a little story. It’s a true story about my sorry lack of organizational skills. This happened a few years ago. My daughter, Rebekah was maybe five years old. I passed her room one afternoon and peeked inside. She was there, at the foot of her bed working diligently with three piles of underwear. Two on the bed, one on the floor. Upon further investigation I noticed she had a pair of panties, flat out, smoothed down on the bed.

Amused, I chose to say nothing and watched. She chose one pair of panties from the pile on her left and the then carefully placed it on top of what was obviously the control pair. This brought new meaning to the phase, control-top panties. She would then smooth the second pair out and if it didn’t match with the control pair it was discarded to the growing pile on the floor. If it was a match she dropped it into the pile on her right. After several minutes I decided to ask her about this.

“It’s okay, Mommy, I’m just sorting out the ones that fit.”


Waves of guilt flushed my face. “Oh, honey. That should probably be my job.”

There you have it. I couldn’t even keep my daughter’s underwear under control. She had to sort through her own drawers. It was even more humiliating to see that she had underwear in there from when she was potty-training. Yikes.

“I am so sorry, Rebekah,” I said. “Let Mommy help you.”

“No, it’s okay. I like it.”

“Really? Well, I have some drawers in my room that need sorting.”

She wasn’t amused.

BTW--that's Beck up there, all grown up, eating for two and learning to sort for three, well almost four now. That's right, another grandchild is on the way. Due December.

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