A Case of The Gremlins

I couldn’t be any happier with my perfect family.  I have an always precious loving two year old daughter, and a helpful never faulting doting husband with another bundle of joy coming soon in May.  That’s right, we are your simple perfect suburban family innocently suffering from some sort of mishap, almost like a true life Invasion of the Body Snatchers.

I have a case of the Gremlins in my kitchen.  I go to bed each night admiring my gloriously clean kitchen, basking in how wonderful it will be to rise in the morning, set up my laptop on the bar with a nice cup of tea and just bask in the order that is.  But then as the sun rises and I make my way to the kitchen dreaming of strudel and chai I find scattered along my once immaculate counters ramen wrappers, candy wrappers, used silver, bowls lined in dried salsa, plates smeared with dried ketchup and cups caked with tomato juice.  So much for a peaceful morning.

The Blob has been hiding and slowly swelling in my bedroom in what is told to me as organized piles of clothes along the far wall against the man-child’s side of the bed.  Clothes that were laid out neatly in piles the night before, freshly cleaned to be placed in their appropriate homes have found their way into the piles of dirty clothes over night. Through a hurried search for wallets and keys in the morning the blob manages to spread its reach even consuming food left behind by the gremlins that must have made it into the bedroom.  As I tackle the blob I find more candy wrappers sometimes even dried pizza crust entangled in it’s design.

Possessed toys comes to life, finding their way in my path just after having cleaned up.  Blocks construct barriers, dolls pose creepily watching us, books spew out their pages, and princesses spread their reign.  It is an incredibly hostile community for the toy kind and I wait in nervous anticipation for them to turn on us next.

I seek order, I seek an exorcism, is this out of the Ghostbuster’s realm?  Or perhaps it is time for me to face these imperfections and admit that I need help.  It’s time to start the interviews for a nanny…our process in seeking out an assistant mommy began yesterday, and I will post on that progress as we go along.


3 Comments Add yours

  1. BecHanson says:

    I live with two teen-aged boys and a very hairy dog. I used to worry about this sort of thing but now I have adopted the blob, welcomed it into my home and made it my friend. A little disorder can be a good thing, in my view – the very neat are all mad!!


    1. I think it wouldn’t bug me so much if I wasn’t third trimester “nesting” 😉

      Liked by 1 person

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