The Day Mommy Decided Not to Clean

It's the Bizarro Pottery Barn Catalog!

What would happen if one day mommy decided not to clean? This past Saturday, I discovered the answer.

I engaged in an experiment. It started based on an argument I had with my husband the night before where he complained that the house didn’t need to be as clean as I thought it needed to be all the time. 

Thoroughly offended, I decided to see just how shambolic the house would get if I left everything up to my family to clean. Maturity has never been one of my stronger suits (although seriously, my vocabulary rocks!).

So I decided to test his theory and didn't clean up like I usually did. I mean, I did nothing. I didn’t put glasses away. I didn’t pick up trash on the floor. I didn’t ask anyone to pick up their shoes, make their beds, put the dirty clothes away, take out the trash, or bring in the barrels from the curb…nothing. Later in the day, I also ruled out closing cabinet doors and drawers for my untidy roommates. 

Little did I know that no one in the house had any perception of disorder besides me. I also didn’t realize how ingrained it is for me to pick up after everyone. I picked things up and then forced myself to put them right back down at least ten times. Needless to say, I felt completely pissed off at everyone who lives here. 

I took these photos at 2:30 pm Pacific Time.  Just to be clear, I debated about whether to show these photos online. That’s how irritated and embarrassed I am. 

I either need less remotes or a bigger table...

Hey look! My neighbors across the street must be doing the same experiment!

Part of me wants to just sweep this infernal game out the slider...

The sad thing is that this is typically my neater child.

Fort blankets...I really hate forts.

The white line at the bottom concerns me.

Ooops! One of those smoothie glasses was mine.

Honestly, this is typical. Neatness is not one of her natural talents...

Clean teeth, filthy bathroom.

It is important to me to tell you that the house is messy, not dirty (well, except for maybe the kitchen floor…it’s always pretty vile). We clean every Saturday, except this one, of course. I have a strict regimen of chores with specific standards for completion that my kids choose from each Saturday morning. 

They call it chore-morning. Or as we mom's call it, morning. 

By 5pm, the mess had spread and I was positively fuming.

Facing dinnertime in the house of the clutter, I wondered where on earth I  was going to serve it! I decided to tell the kids to set the table and see what happens. If this coffee can placement is any indication however, I didn’t have high hopes.

No, seriously…just put that coffee can anywhere.

At 5:44pm, my husband came in from his bike ride. He was looking at his stats online just as I was finishing up dinner. I still wasn’t saying anything about the mess and neither was he. The only acknowledgement between us that the house was messy was when he asked me why I was taking pictures of the house earlier, questions to which my answers were purposefully vague. Instead, we had a normal conversation amid the piles of junk mail, trash, dirty dishes and abandoned board games. He told me about his ride, asked about dinner, and went to take a shower.

I was keeping my cool, but just barely. I wanted to scream out in my most sarcastic tone, “Seriously?” but I maintained my composure. I decided to serve dinner buffet style and let everyone figure out where to sit to eat it. I called everyone to dinner.

My husband came in from the shower, no doubt having just stepped over the towels and clothes still on the floor from last night. 

I also like how the shower head is left to dangle.

First he says, “Wow, dinner looks great!” Not a bad start. 

Then he said words that made me love him more than ever. “Kids, I have an announcement to make: after we eat we are going to clean up this house. This house is an absolute disaster.”

I knew there was a reason I married this guy.

I started this experiment to teach my family a lesson. The funny thing is that I was the one who learned things from it. Although it pains me to admit it, messy wasn’t all bad. On the plus side, I had time to write this post, read my book, and take a nap in my unmade bed. So I guess living in a chaotic pit has its advantages. The most important thing I learned is that my husband likes it tidy, too, even if he doesn’t get itchy about the state of things as quickly as I do.

So is it kind of tricky and underhanded to run an experiment like this? Absolutely. Was it worth it? Definitely. Is my house clean today? 

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