It’s not so bad.

I once read that the original meaning of the word “slut” referred to a woman who was not so circumspect with her housekeeping (as opposed to certain other parts of her), and I understood.  I am a slut.  Not the slatternly woman type, but the housekeeping type.

I know I am not alone.  My cousin Jennie has confessed to it (I just can’t find her confession right now).  I lived with Jacki, so I know her ways (although she is married and quite reformed), and I am sure you all have a little of it in you.  I have been doing my best to keep that particular personality trait under control, but today?  I found a loaf of foil wrapped pumpkin bread in the “junk” basket on the laundry room counter.  I am pretty sure Andra made it at school around the holidays – and I admit I wondered where it had gone, but then I saw something in foil in the fridge later and figured Phil must have found it.  I guess I figured wrong.

I have to admit, this wasn’t the first time something like this happened, so I didn’t over react.  I once found a dyed easter egg at the bottom of a brown paper bag in Graces room in late summer/early fall.   And there was the time that Andra wouldn’t eat when she was a toddler, but then I found her gnawing on a dried out carrot in her room.  Don’t get me wrong, the old food really does freak me out.  But I guess I have to remind myself that the second you have a kid, you love all control of these things.  They move things, they throw away all your spoons, and they hide food.   Don’t tell me it has never happened to you.   Really, don’t tell me.

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