I have confessed before that I’m a confirmed innie. I like my schtuff squirreled away behind a curtain, door, or screen. If I can stick it in a box behind the curtain, door, or screen, all the better.
Some call it organization.
That’s because no matter how hard I try, there are certain spaces in my house that get overcome by the Innie Monster. The Queen Mother of all spaces is the walk- in closet in my den. I've yakked about it before.
It's supposed to look like this
According to the Duchess, I developed innie infatuation at an early age. She would send me upstairs to swab the deck, and I would shuffle it instead. I would shuffle it from the floor to the closet. When the closet was full, I invented under-the-bed storage.
Because mothers can’t be trusted, she loves to rat me out about the most notorious innie incident in Debbie Land.
You see, the Duchess was one of those mothers who encouraged playtime, and generally speaking, she had a high tolerance for toy clutter. She drew the line when clutter became a mess.
One day, she ventured into my room to discover one such mess.
It wasn’t just any old mess, either. Growing up in our house, there were two kinds of messes. There were regular messes, and then there were filthy messes. When the Duchess whipped out the "filthy mess", you knew that you had best skedaddle to your room to do something about it.
I shuffled that filthy mess into the closet and under the bed, and then, because I was obviously too young to understand the whole timing concept, I ran right back downstairs for inspection.
To say that I failed to pass muster is an understatement.
As legend has it, the Duchess entered the room to discover a bed turned hovercraft and a bulging closet door. I got the two- syllable scolding complete with the traditional Duchess salutation.
I don’t know what got into you to make such a
And this time, she stood guard as I slinked my way back into the closet to make method out of madness. That's how she heard me muttering.
Musta been da debil...
Musssta been da debil..
Apparently, I was in there pondering the answer to her rhetorical question. I stepped out to give it to her.
Musta been da debil
that made me make such a mess of my room…
But the Lord’s in me now,
‘cause I’m pickin’ it up.
And though I still had to clean my filthy mess that day, she decided right then and there that no further scolding was necessary.
Sharon Sharing God could make a wonderful devotional out of that one. As for me, I’m off on another tangent completely.
You see, there’s a reason for this ramble this morning, and it’s this:
Her Majesty the Den Closet
I’ve managed to make a filthy mess.
Musta been the debil...
But the Lord’s in me now, ‘cause I’m cleaning it up.
I’ve challenged myself to post an after picture post. Feel free to stop by later and keep me honest.
Can anyone relate at all? Do you have a certain spot in your house that’s a magnet for the Innie Monster?