MOVarazzi

Thursday, December 29, 2011

612. Drop In

One of The Husband’s best friends stopped by yesterday. No phone call, no email, just the random drop-by. I am not a random drop-by kind of girl.

If I know you are coming over, I want the house to be so clean that you are tricked into thinking our kitchen always smells like Clorox and we never have stray hairbrush hair or drips of toothpaste languishing in the bathroom sink. Oh, no, our house is magazine-cover perfect 100% of the time.

If I know you are coming over, I spend a solid hour (okay, three) racing around, putting things away, vacuuming, dusting, organizing, sweeping, rearranging, and Windexing. I know it is just a social visit, but with my alter-ego having a name like Queen Virgo, the house is ready for a Realtor caravan or open house.

I want to take pictures. I want to take lots of pictures of my house looking pretty (Say cheese!) so I can plaster them all over the front entrance and say, No need to come in, here is photographic proof that the house looks good. Okay, bye now!  Next time I won't have to clean, I can just point out the photos instead. 

I realize this is not good hostessing.

The Husband (thankfully) does not share my quirky freak-out qualities. He most likely would not even describe them as “qualities.” He would say “traits” or better yet “idiosyncrasies.” He might have even known in advance that Graham was planning to stop by and chosen not to tell me, but he denies it.

Graham gave me a hug and I invited him in. (Is this a good time to tell you I had no make-up on, my hair was still wet from the shower, and I was wearing sweats? I was not expecting guests. I looked sloppy.)

I wonder what the conversation between The Husband and Graham will go like later.

The Husband:  Hey, it was great to see you the other day! So glad you stopped by!

Graham:  Likewise. But, dude, what’s the deal with MOV? She looked, uh … tired.

The Husband (defensive):  What do you mean?

Graham:  Does she always look like that? I mean she looked 43. (says the number “43” like one might say “110”)

The Husband:  She is 43.

Graham:  Oh. Well, good.  She looks it.

The Husband:  Dude, do you think you could stop talking about my wife?

Graham:  Sure! Sorry! How ‘bout those Steelers? And, uh, you might want to know there were an inordinate amount of dust bunnies in your hallway. Just sayin’.

I mention this imaginary conversation to The Husband later. He laughs. Then he puts his arm around me and says, “MOV, Sweetie, you are the only one who cares about these things. Seriously. Let. It. Go.”

And I do, I let it go. For about 10 minutes, I let it go. It doesn’t matter that there are dirty dishes in the sink, I tell myself. Or a pile of Tall’s dirty clothes in the hall, waiting to go to the basement laundry room. It’s not realistic that the house will look like a Museum of Clean every day.

It looks like a Museum of Chaos and Love. For right now, that’s good enough.

MOV
(“Mystery Of Visitors”)

10 comments:

  1. I love it when people stop by unplanned because if I have time to prepare myself and house, I don't have to worry that my efforts were substandard (as I made none).

    ReplyDelete
  2. It must surely be a Virgo thing because I too HATE drop in/by visitors. Not because I want to clean everything first - because I want to deter all visits if possible. :o) If I must have a visitor, then I will clean like mad just as you described, but to protect my sanity - and my family sanity - I try to aggressively offer alternatives to visiting me - usually the one that I have big dogs does the trick!

    ReplyDelete
  3. And that my girl makes it a HOME. ;-)

    ReplyDelete
  4. I'm just a teensy bit worried that you thought a MALE visitor would notice things like dust bunnies....not unless the world tilts on its axis...and the tides all go out at the same time...and the moon cheese crumbles.

    ReplyDelete
  5. I love it when I visit a friend and I see dust and cobwebs - it means it's okay if mine has those things, like when you see other mothers with kids who are being little shits...thanks for that story.

    ReplyDelete
  6. I totally get this! I will clean the house when I know the well repair guy is coming over... and he works outside. It's a sickness.
    And thanks for following my blog. It made my day! :)

    ReplyDelete
  7. I do this too. Although, I don't actually end up cleaning, I just pretend I did. So don't check in my oven when you come over because it's probably full of dirty dishes and laundry. Oh.. and don't open doors. Or look under that lumpy blanket. Actually, it's probably better if we just go out and grab a coffee.

    ReplyDelete
  8. andrea-- that is a very positive and cheery way to look at it. Now I hate you.

    jennie--sing it soul sister!

    patty--oh, now I am getting teary-eyed.

    jo-- I know, right? guys could care less as long as someone offers them a cold beer.

    julie--uh, have you seen my kids lately?

    le'ann--sorry I ever stopped. It is a great blog!

    skiwshee--you make me feel better with the closed closets and lumpy baskets. And "let's grab coffee at Starbucks!" is totally code for "my house is a disaster right now."

    best,
    MOV

    ReplyDelete
  9. Maybe the hate will subside a bit if I straighten that out to how it was supposed to read...If I DO NOT have time to prepare myself and house, then I DO NOT HAVE to worry that my efforts were substandard.

    ReplyDelete
  10. You can borrow my trick... I keep the door locked and when someone comes knocking I stand on the other side and scream, "SORRY, I'M NAKED!!"

    For some reason nobody ever wants to come in after that. Totally works.

    ReplyDelete

When you write a comment, it makes me feel like I won the lottery or at the very least like I ate an ice-cream sundae. (This has nothing to do with the fact that I did just eat an ice-cream sundae.)