Queen of Slobness

by Amie Sexton
excerpt from "Decorating with Weeds"

Is "slobness" a word? Either way, here are my credentials:

1. I am a natural born slob.
My mother is rejoicing to see that I’ve moved past denial.

2. I am a natural born slob who is also a rebellious slob.
You know, the one whose mom forced me to fight my natural slobness as a child and therefore, I choose to use slobness as a symbol of my independence.

3. I am a natural born slob who married another natural born slob.
Although, to this day, Tim claims to have only become a slob after years of my example. Right!

Have you ever dropped in on a friend and heard “come on in but the house is a mess” only to find that “a mess” in her world means the ceiling fans haven’t been dusted in two days and her coffee cup is still in the sink? Oh, the horror!

Well, this was never the case for me. If I said “sure drop by but the house is a mess,” I actually meant A MESS! As in: “I’d offer you a seat if you can just help me move this laundry” or “I’d love to get you a drink but I’ll need to wash a glass first” or even a “just in case, could you leave a current photo by the door on your way in? It makes the search and rescue go so much faster” kind of mess.

There you have it. My full confession. The housekeeping gene; that part of my mother's DNA that triggers sudden, random urges to clean something, definitely skipped a generation.