I'm a neat freak.

At least I hate clutter. I don't mind dirt, so much as everything is put away (wanna come over for dinner now? Ha ha).

My house actually could probably pass for a rental, except for all of the pictures of those same 10 or so people hanging all over the place, and I might be the only arguably sane person who has a framed portrait of her dogs hung in her breakfast room, but I digress.

I like things nicely arranged. My office book shelf was once a thing of...well, if not beauty, structure. I had it organized by book size and subject matter. All of the series were grouped together, there were various knick knacks positioned in the open spaces. It was tidy.

Then I birthed a human ping pong ball.


(The muffin tin is really an inspired touch.)

Now I just scoop up Sookie Stackhouse and slap her down right next to 1776. Jane Eyre suffers the indignity of being stacked horizontally within my battered Everyday Food collection. It's pure chaos I tell you!

I guess he prefers T.V.


(Guiltily draws line under and adds exclamation point to "Library story time" item on calendar.)