During this time while my prodigal husband traverses "the far country" so he can eventually find his way to true happiness in our home, our daughter and I reside with my parents. This has caused many headaches on all parts. In fact, I think my tongue has developed callouses from being bitten so frequently.
Yesterday morning, my mom was buzzing around as I made a hot drink to start my day. Before I finished getting my drink, Mom stopped what she was doing to call me to her.
"Now, honey, I know you probably don't do this on purpose, but there is something that has been really bothering me for a while and I want to show you," Mom said as she led me to the laundry room, where our family enters the house from the garage. She stopped before the open coat closet and exhaled as she looked into it. My gaze followed hers.
Now let me just say that this coat closet has been a frustration to me for the past two years. It is always full of my parents' ironing waiting to be done, and even though I have added my own personal hangers to the closet so there would be hangers enough to hang coats, there are still never enough hangers to use. It makes me want to scream.
In addition to the hanger issue, the whole closet is always a mess because things hang every which way. This drives me nuts. I always hang my clothing in the same direction. It is a habit I developed in my early 20's to help keep some minimal amount of organization and control in my life. I wish my family would just get a clue by observing the way I always hang my own things in the same direction, then follow my lead. But do I complain and correct them? No. I endure chaos to promote domestic tranquility.
Needless to say, I was a little confused when my mother stopped and sighed in front of the irritating closet. Therefore, I looked at it to troubleshoot what the problem might be rather than looking at it in irritation...and I saw something I had never seen. Before my mother even began speaking about Joyce Chen's organized closet, my hand was removing one of my coats from its hanger to turn it around. The closet was not a disorganized mess at all. Every shirt (still an irritation) and every coat was hanging in the same direction except mine.
When I put my coat back in the closet again after rehanging it, Mom and I both laughed. I had put it back exactly the way I always do -- in the opposite direction of the way she does.
Only a small adjustment was necessary to fix the discord. I now use hangers that are just for me. They swivel at the top so I can turn my coats around after they are hung.
Yesterday morning, my mom was buzzing around as I made a hot drink to start my day. Before I finished getting my drink, Mom stopped what she was doing to call me to her.
"Now, honey, I know you probably don't do this on purpose, but there is something that has been really bothering me for a while and I want to show you," Mom said as she led me to the laundry room, where our family enters the house from the garage. She stopped before the open coat closet and exhaled as she looked into it. My gaze followed hers.
Now let me just say that this coat closet has been a frustration to me for the past two years. It is always full of my parents' ironing waiting to be done, and even though I have added my own personal hangers to the closet so there would be hangers enough to hang coats, there are still never enough hangers to use. It makes me want to scream.
In addition to the hanger issue, the whole closet is always a mess because things hang every which way. This drives me nuts. I always hang my clothing in the same direction. It is a habit I developed in my early 20's to help keep some minimal amount of organization and control in my life. I wish my family would just get a clue by observing the way I always hang my own things in the same direction, then follow my lead. But do I complain and correct them? No. I endure chaos to promote domestic tranquility.
Needless to say, I was a little confused when my mother stopped and sighed in front of the irritating closet. Therefore, I looked at it to troubleshoot what the problem might be rather than looking at it in irritation...and I saw something I had never seen. Before my mother even began speaking about Joyce Chen's organized closet, my hand was removing one of my coats from its hanger to turn it around. The closet was not a disorganized mess at all. Every shirt (still an irritation) and every coat was hanging in the same direction except mine.
When I put my coat back in the closet again after rehanging it, Mom and I both laughed. I had put it back exactly the way I always do -- in the opposite direction of the way she does.
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