Turning into my mother, one closet at a time.

Last weekend I had the sudden urge to organize.

My urges to clean are on a cycle similar to the Hale-Bopp comet. So when they do occur, I must act PROMPTLY.

This particular notion to clean overtook me while I was out running errands with La. And just so that I would have a witness and not be able to talk myself out of actually doing the deed by the time I got home, I called Dr P and announced, "I will go home and I will organize La's closet! Mark my words."

I got home. I pulled my hair into a bun. I put on my sweats. And then I marched my little hiney into La's room and yanked every single thing out of that godforsaken closet.



I got a little sweaty.

Did I mention that the closet in her room is the only closet in our entire house? Well it's true, save for the itty-bitty linen closet in the bathroom. And linen closets don't count, if you ask me.

Here's what it looked like when everything was removed (except for that weird window thingy. Where did it come from?) and the centuries-old dust bunnies were swept.



I gazed at this sight for what, 10 minutes? 20 minutes? I couldn't help it. A heavenly host of angels were singing sweet choruses in my head. It was WONDERFUL.

And then I turned around.



Suddenly I wasn't feeling so happy.

I called Dr P and poured out my woes. He told me that I couldn't do it alone. Heeding his advice, instead of attacking the pile full-on, I remedied the problem by taking La for a little walk. Two whole blocks. To World Market. To buy a bottle of wine. And then we came back home.

I cracked that sucker open, poured a tall glass, and dove right into the pile.

And look what I did!



The closet has now been clean for five whole days. FIVE DAYS!

Sometimes I find myself wandering into La's room, opening the closet door, and staring peacefully into it with a smile on my face. Kind of like when my mom got her new ruby-red Kenmore washer and dryer set, and would open the laundry closet periodically throughout the day just to stare at her beloved babies. Back then, I was thiiiiis close to having her committed.

Mom, I don't think you're that weird anymore.