Inked

A few nights ago we were all sitting at the kitchen table finishing dinner when Tom noticed some ink on the table.

He glowered at me and the girls, wanting to know who’d written on the table.

Olivia said, “I didn’t. I was writing on paper and it went through the paper to the table.”

I assured him, “It will come off. It always does.”

He rolled his eyes at the implication that there is often ink on the table.

Whatever. I finished dinner and cleared the table.

The next night as I was washing dishes, Tom called from across the room, “You were right, the ink came right off the table.”

“Awesome,” I replied.

He continued, “I cleaned it off this morning.”

Ahhh. Okay. I got it. “I forgot to wipe it off last night, didn’t I?”

He nodded, “I kind of thought you wiped off the table every night.”

Ha! I actually did laugh at this. I asked him, “What gave you the idea that I did that?”

I looked around the house. Right now it’s pretty cluttered due to some home improvement stuff going on. We don’t live in filth but I could definitely be a better housekeeper.

My comment actually got a smile out of him.

We do our best but there are always places we could improve.

I keep telling him that if we don’t laugh at how similar we are to the Hecks from the tv show The Middle, we’ll cry.

I mean, we don’t have a hole where our kitchen sink should be, but there is definitely room for improvement when it comes to clutter. I’d say our house looks ‘lived in’ but that implies a sense of comfort and really, there are just piles of crap that need to be cleaned up more often than they are.

Soon. I promise. Right after I paint the family room, dining area, kitchen and entry way.