I was thirsty. So I did what any sensible mother would do and asked Little Person if she wanted a drink. (Bonus points for sharing a joke. Minus points for thinking “Oh, look, we’re sharing a joke.”) And went downstairs to get the drink. Except then I saw I hadn’t folded the clothes.
Clothes folded, I went to turn the kettle on, and decide what kind of tea I wanted. Remembered a conversation about the various types of tea I drink. Decided to take a photo of all the different choices to make my friend laugh. Went to get Little Person’s cup out of the cupboard. Spotted some clothes on the drying rack. Folded them onto the top of the laundry pile (sort of). Went back to get Little Person’s cup, spotted the ketchup from last night still on the table. Put ketchup away. Finally managed to get Little Person’s cup. Couldn’t put it on the counter because all the boxes of tea were in the way. Realised I hadn’t boiled the kettle.
Eventually, Little Person got her drink, and I got my tea, and then I looked in the bedroom and saw a pile of clothes on the floor. In the exact place I had cleared a pile of clothes from the floor yesterday. And I got grumpy, went to put them in the laundry basket and realised why they were on the floor.
And suddenly, I wished I was one of those people who could just follow the morning clean-up routine and just have a tidy house. Make a list, tick it off, and everything gets done. If there’s a routine for getting everything tidied and put away, I have tried it. But inevitably the whole thing falls apart.
Because, real life. And maybe even, real priorities. Or maybe even, I don’t like doing things when I’m tired. So all the fancy teas in the world, and all the nice lists in the world, aren’t going to get the job done. Sometimes you just have to realise that you have to do life tired.
But on the plus side, all the laundry is folded.