Imperfect

Imperfect

I believe I can say, with a hefty amount of confidence, I have never, ever walked into another person’s house in search of flaws.

I am there to visit

and converse

and see your cute, little face

and quite honestly, I really don’t care what you have or how you have it. It’s YOU I’m interested in and why I am at your residence. So, rest assured that I absolutely don’t mind if there are dishes in your sink and I will not notice if you haven’t had a chance to vacuum. Toys on the floor equals fun fun fun ! and bags or shoes or whatever is tossed about means you’ve been busy

& we all get busy

so, ummmm

Can someone please explain why, when the roles are reversed and it is YOU coming over to see ME ?

YIKES ! Wait. Hang on a minute, would ya??!? I’ve got a zillion things to do to get ready for your entrance and I am experiencing a slight form of panic as you cannot see how life is really lived around here !!

I mean, I promise, I’m not a slob or any such thing but, but, but … truth be told, Husband and I tend to slack off every now and again and I just cannot have you experience our real deal.

Why ?

well, er, uh, you might realize that I tilt toward the imperfect side, I’m a bit defective at times and yep !! sometimes life just doesn’t follow any sort of plan and dodging a curve ball is the way of the day. Things happen and and and

& it’s ok.

It is sooooo ok.

Hey ! you see that dust bunny over in the corner over there ?

No ?

YaY

Neither do I.

🙂

Simple Things