Yesterday, I sent them all upstairs to tidy their rooms. It was a relatively quick process for the boys - toys in the toy box, books on the bookshelf, clothes in drawers. Priscilla, however, paced herself, dawdled. She would not be hurried. "I think we should call this chore decorating, instead of cleaning," she told me. You can call it sky diving as far as I'm concerned, is what I thought, but what I said, was, "That sounds perfect."
For nearly two hours, Priscilla "decorated," while singing loudly, Away in the Manger, Little Drummer Boy, and yes, of course, The Van Lear Rose. She avoided for the majority of that time the "in your face" all over the floor mess, choosing rather to focus her efforts on tying ribbons around the necks of her stuffed animals and moving her wall stickers from over her desk to over her bed. "I've decided to hang my dresses on the other side of Mary's," she yelled down to me. And then I smiled, because Priscilla, my sweet, sweet girl, is exactly like her mother - because when faced with a monumental task, I am also drawn to random side projects such as sorting through markers, counting game pieces, organizing shoes and shirts by season and color.
I have piles, loads, mountains of laundry to wash. I best get started and that I will... in just one minute. But then again, maybe first ...oh, I'm sure I'll think of something. Bake a cake? Frame some photos? The possibilities are literally endless.
I am the Fly Lady's worst nightmare.