Yep. No sooner did we clean the house bow to stern and get it ship-shape, then the annual onslaught of 4-H projects and Vacation Bible School preparation have filled the whole ground floor with paint and posters, scissors and technicolor duct tape. This year our 9 year old has also decided that she can’t craft without Radio Disney setting the proper mood.
Already our upstairs is cluttered with our 9, 12, & 14 year old girls’ beauty products, boy-band posters, and residual Barbie clothes (from an earlier stage in their childhoods).
I have no refuge. Our unattached one-car garage is a ramshackle structure erected in the 1930’s. I’m not particularly handy or mechanical anyway.
Our basement didn’t start out looking like an episode of Hoarders, but two water heater explosions, and a few other plumbing disasters, rewiring, remodeling and a constant stream of inheritances from still-living ancestors has left it, lets just say uninhabitable except in the most dire tornado warnings.
Our attic is unfinished, unairconditioned, and inaccessible without a ladder, which is a deterrent to me due to my acute acrophobia.
This pushes me to the porch in good weather, except during peak mosquito hours, or to our bedroom.
The problem with our bedroom is that it doesn’t have a reliable wifi signal. The other problem is then when I hole up in there, my wife accuses me of tying to escape and being unsociable and unavailable. That’s what I get for falling in love with someone so intelligent and perceptive.