Once upon a time I was a young single girl and the only mess in my apartment was the mess I made myself.  I didn’t know how good I had it back then.  No kids, no husband, no pets and a lot less pick-up work.  Now I go from room to room arms full of stuff I intend to return to its rightful place in what seems like an eternal loop.  It is like that movie Groundhog Day I just keep living the same day over and over.  If my house was a few thousand feet bigger I would be able to start a pedometer on fire and eat as much ice cream as I liked.

It isn’t just the humans around here that I am running around picking up after.  The furry part of the family has a way of cluttering up the place as well.  The biggest offender is Spot the cat (you may recall seeing Spot on the ladder in an earlier blog).  Spot is a multi-talented cat.  He hunts stuff around the house and brings it to me for praise.  He hunts stuff like tootsie pops, socks, my eyeglass case, candy wrappers, hair items, mittens and gloves, my makeup bag, and my very long and very furry winter scarf.

Spot loves me a lot and as such there is no end to the parade of treasures he will pile in my vicinity.  If I am working at my computer he will dutifully go up and down the stairs literally dozens of times bringing me one treasure after another.  Too bad he can’t take direction as it would be akin to having a cat butler.  No matter where I am, if Spot is awake he is hunting for me.   He literally goes to the location where my jacket is and takes my gloves out of my pockets.  He digs treasures out of my purse.  He drags my long winter scarf (about 6 feet long) off the chair and down the stairs to me. 

I thank him for being a good hunter each time he delivers an item and then go back to whatever I am doing until the next delivery.  Once the pile gets to a noticeable size I pick it all up and put it back.  This goes on every day multiple times a day.  He goes…he sees…he conquers; and I clean up the neverending conquests.  It is craziness, but it comes from love so I have learned to live with it. 

Spot is now about 11 years old.  The day will come when I won’t be cleaning up his conquests any longer.  The same is true for the kids and husband – some day it will be back to cleaning up only after me.  Hmmm, perhaps I’ll miss it then.  As for now, I have Cheyenne’s headband, one glove and an eyeglass case to put away – and wait…here comes the scarf.

Day two hundred and twenty-four of the new forty – obla di obla da

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