Strange, Strange, Strange

Let me start out this morning by saying that without a crib, Toddler is getting up earlier and earlier. He is no longer content to doze in bed after he wakes and will open his own door (or wake us all up trying) and run out as soon as his body will obey him. Sometimes I'm not sure he is completely awake at that point, as he is still staggering like a drunk man, and if you hold him down in bed, his eyes close automatically. Just writing about this reminds me of how tired I am. Where is the coffee?

So I get up this morning, and shortly after Toddler is all squared away, I stagger into the bathroom myself, where I promptly knock over the shower shelves that are sitting on the back of the toilet. I nearly do this every morning, resetting them at the last minute, but this morning I had a clean shot and down they went. As I'm on the floor picking up the various things that fell from the shelves, I begin to wonder. Why do I even have these if we keep them on the back of the toilet? Why aren't they in the shower? Oh, that's right, because the Scrubbing Bubbles shower cleaner is hanging from the shower head and there is no room. Of course this arrangement makes sense because we use the Scrubbing Bubbles shower cleaner every day, right? Umm ... no. I'm not sure when we last "hit the button." That shower is scrubbed by hand instead and only by hand. Why is that, I can hear you asking. Beats me. Let me know when you come up with an answer because I'd like to know.

So as I'm picking up the things on the floor, my sleep fogged eyes clear enough to actually look at them. One, two pairs of Darling Husband's glasses. Well, I think to myself, that seems excessive. I know one is brand new, and the other one is a backup with a slightly old prescription ... wait. Aren't these the super old ones that make him look like an owl? Why yes, yes they are. But doesn't that mean -? I look around the bathroom with more care. Yes, there next to the toothbrush is the new glasses. The two in my hand are the older ones. Yes, you read that right. We store two pairs of unused glasses (without the case) on the back of a toilet on an unstable shower rack. Other things I found on the rack (because honestly I haven't really looked before) is an unopened box of Qtips and a picture of Darling Husband's youngest first cousin, from early high school. If I told you how many years ago that was, someone would get embarrased (probably me because I'd get it wrong). Let's just say it is more than five. There is also an unopened jar of hand lotion of some exotic variety and a coupon for bic razors. In other words, except for the coupon, these are useless things. The coupon is useless too if it isn't downstairs in the coupon bag to actually go to the store with us.

Moving on, I leave the bathroom discouraged already for the day. I'm sure I can't throw out any of this stuff without causing some sort of domestic ruckus, but I will have a cup of coffee and think about it anyway. On my way out of the bathroom I trip over a pair of sneakers. They are big ones, so they aren't mine. (I have micro-feet.) With my newly clear eyes, I look around carefully. One, two, three pairs of sneakers. Okay, what man who goes to work in a suit needs three pairs of sneakers, I ask you? I'm sure they are here for the primary purpose of making the walk through the bedroom a health hazard.

All of this has made me wonder -- am I about to strike another blow for organization by cleaning this all up? Have my Manchurian eyes cleared so that I can actually see it? Or, instead, has it all just arrived in response to the five boxes of useless things Darling Husband and I loaded out of the basement and into the truck this past week?

On the one hand, I think I am starting to understand why we have too many things and not enough house. On the other hand, I'm pretty worried about how the rest of the day will turn out.