Mount Washmore

I’ll be the first to admit that though I feel skilled at “making a home,” I am terribly deficient at cleaning one. In fact, one of the major reasons we used to host our weekly church homegroup was so that we’re forced to clean our house. We honestly don’t do this in an attempt to impress people (we swallowed our pride on that a long time ago), but so that our friends don’t break their ankle slipping on tiny blocks, get queasy seeing pre-chewed crumbs ground into the couch, or have to sit on a toilet decorated with toddler pee.

People have been kind in trying to excuse my uncleanliness because of the Tasmanian Devil-esque mess that comes with this season of life. But as my mother and college roommates can attest, I’ve just never cared to spend my time on cleaning. Plus, horizontal surfaces in particular tend to get dirty a few milliseconds after you’ve cleaned it, so why all the fuss?

But despite my impurity impairment, I do feel like I am unusually underwhelmed by laundry. Continue reading →