hissy fit

Standard

I’ve generally outgrown fits. I find they accomplish almost nothing; other than a general emptying of my spleen. When the dust settles from my colossal temper-tantrum (and I can whip it up with the best of them), the mess about which I got all frothy remains and then I have damage control to do too. Makes me tired just thinking about it. But, I will confess I left the house this morning in the mood for a good yellin’.

So. What, exactly, is the best course of action when “come, let us reason together” hasn’t worked? Mother says I should change my approach, but I’m so one-minded about this issue, frankly, I’m just not in the mood to look for middle ground. Isn’t that dumb?

My house is a mess. Literally. I’m not normally a sloppy person. Now, nobody would accuse me of being OCD about cleaning; unless I’m mad about something. (then you’d better just back away and let me scrub) But this has gotten beyond me.The sink is never empty. Clothes just get transferred from one basket or pile to another. And don’t get me started about the floors and dust. Where did all this stuff come from? How did it get so bad?

Mom stopped doing it. That’s how. Now, before a certain redhead of my heart starts beating up on himself for not doing anything, let me jump in and say I consider the house MY dominion. I’m terribly old-fashioned. I believe in a division of labor. My realm is the house. Yes. I work outside of the house most of the day. That’s because we like living in a nice house and driving a nice car and going on trips and I enjoy shopping far more than I enjoy NOT shopping. But. I still believe it is my primary responsibility to take care of the house and all things involved in home (food, clothes, etc.). So. What’s a reasonable person to do when she wakes up to realize she’s completely abdicated responsibility for keeping some semblance of order in the house?

I thought about throwing a fit, stomping my feet and unleashing a little of that infamous temper (even told my mother that’s what I planned to do), but I’ve already talked myself out of that. After all, I just said it’s my responsibility. I’m just going to fix it. [insert steely-eyed look of Mom Determination that my family recognizes as “Mom’s on a mission”] While I know it didn’t get cluttered overnight and, therefore, won’t be uncluttered tonight, I can make a big start. And I intend to do just that. Without a fit. Just work. And child labor.

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