Clean House or Live a Full Life?

“I just don’t get it,” Sally said as she walked in the house and tossed her purse and coat in the nearest chair.  “Don’t get me wrong, but I swear having a house that clean and neat is just not normal.”

Trailing in behind her, Bobby said, “Our house could be that neat and clean if we weren’t always doing some construction project or rescuing some stray dog or any of the other hundred things we are always doing.”

“Oh, so if I let poor helpless dogs and cats starve to death we could have a cleaner house?” Sally said with a bit of anger in her voice.

“That is not what I said and you know it,” Bobby replied defensively.  “It’s just that we always have so many things going on here that neither of us has the time to fine tune our house like that.”

“Well, I just think when peoples’ houses are that clean and perfect, there is something missing in their life,” she said as she fixed a drink and grabbed a beer for Bobby.  “I mean, sometimes I wish our house could look that clean but if you really look at it, her house has no style or personality.  The only thing it’s got going for it is that it is as clean as an operating room.”

Taking a long drink from the beer, Bobby said, “Well I don’t know about you, but messy as our place may be I like ours better.”

“Me too,  I mean look at this,” she said with a wave of her hand around the room.  “We have lots of color and built-ins.  We have really cool stuff all over the place.  Maybe too much stuff but at least we have stuff that is interesting and unique.”

“I love our place,” Bobby said.  “It can be a bit overwhelming sometimes and the mess from moving walls or redoing whole rooms can get to me, but all said, I would rather be building something new or taking care of an animal in need than worrying about making sure every pillow is perfectly fluffed or every trinket it perfectly placed and dust free.”

Sipping her drink and taking a seat on the living room couch, Sally said, “Your right, but sometimes I wish we were minimalists.”

Laughing and choking on his drink, Bobby said, “Us minimalists?  Yeah, right.”

“I know,” Sally said.  “But going to other people’s houses and seeing everything so neat and clean makes me feel like a pig.”

“You are a pig,” Bobby said jokingly.  “You come home and drop things wherever you are.  Purse here, shoes there, coat over there.  But that’s ok.  You work hard and this is your place to unwind. “

Smacking him lightly, she said, “Well, I try to pick up after myself on the weekend.”

Pointing at the desk piled high with papers, books, two computers and more, Bobby said, “I can tell.”

“That’s different,” she said.  “That’s stuff I’m working on or reading or researching or just interested in.”

“I’m not complaining,” he said.  “You do a lot and although you leave a mess in your wake, you always come up with creative ideas and interesting ways to get things done or help animals for less money.”

“You’re right, neat people never make the kind of interesting discoveries that I do, that we do,” she said.  “We do more in a weekend around here than most folks do in a month.”

Rising from the couch and heading to the kitchen, Bobby said, “I better straighten up the kitchen before we call it a night.”

Passing him her empty glass, Sally said in her playful voice, “Or you could leave it till morning and head upstairs with me.”

“See, it is your fault,” he said as he sat down the empty glass and turned off the light.  “I was going to clean but once again you are stopping me,” he added with a chuckle.