Two If By Air: The Inlaws Are Coming

Nothing makes me crazier than my family. And I mean this in a good way, mostly. And since my family live across the country in the land of fruits and nuts and crazy liberal Californians, I am made crazier pretty infrequently.

I should clarify that I am pretty crazy even when my family doesn't come to town, but that is another story.

So, I guess if my parents lived in town, I wouldn't care if my house was dirty when they came over. I guess if they came over ever day, some days would be cleaner than others and holidays would sparkle. But, since they don't come over, I feel compelled to put my best foot forward and demonstrate through cleanliness that I, in fact, have my shit together.

In reality, the few days before my family's arrival are a tornadic symphony of NOT having my shit together. At. All.

And this time, it's worse. My family room looks like this:

and the dust and mess this generated is everywhere. The DVDs that used to be in the storage cabinet are in the guest room. As are the pictures that used to be on the walls, the coffee table, the lamps, the pillows, the EVERYTHING THAT USED TO BE IN MY FAMILY ROOM. This picture, which could be a metaphor for me and my totally untogether shit, distinctly says, "Do not invite people over. Your family room is still naked." Ironic that it is the family room that is in total chaos.

And yet, my family arrives today. My family room looks like that. The dust is a quarter inch thick over everything in the house. I have tile/floor/fabric samples strewn pell mell. I have sawdust as thick as autumn leaves in the carport. I have heaps of drop cloths and used paint cans on the porch. So, naturally, this morning, I am running around with a broom and a mop and a dust cloth trying to clean. It's like post-Katrina New Orleans and I'm gonna clean it all with a sponge.

This is nuts.

Even more so than usual.

Alright. I gotta go. I can at least empty the sink of all the dirty dishes.