Behind door #1…
There is a scary bathroom upstairs. This evening I grew tired of the Sparkette’s reluctance to clean it, and I grabbed a trash bag, a helmet, the Sparkette, and headed up there.
The first thing we did was open the cabinets under the sink.
Mercy. I’m surprised we didn’t find a family of raccoons living under there.
We moved into this house in 2001. At that time, four kids used that bathroom. It is now 2014 and only one kid still uses that bathroom, and yet I found evidence of every single one of those youngsters-who-are-now-adults. It is entirely possible that nobody has ever torn that bathroom cabinet down to nothing and sorted out its contents. Maybe I did when I stripped the ugly wallpaper and repainted it many moons ago, but I wouldn’t bet an essential body part on it. I wouldn’t even bet a many years-old green starlight mint on it.
And yes, we found one of those.
The bathroom still isn’t clean. The Sparkette gets that dandy job tomorrow. The bathroom is, however, organized and decluttered, to the tune of an entire kitchen trash bag full of…stuff…hauled out to the trash can. I was merciless, even throwing out entire bottles of lotions and hair products that I know were so old the brands have since gone through several generations of new label designs. The Sparkette now knows exactly what is in her bathroom and where it is, and there’s nothing left in there she doesn’t want or need. Not even the medicated dog shampoo that expired in 2002.
Life can get messy like that when we don’t keep the old closets and cabinets cleaned out and up to date. The next thing you know you’re spending hours…or days…or months trying to sort out years’ worth of the stuff you didn’t want to deal with and just shoved behind the nearest closed door. And you can’t just open the door and quickly scoop it all into a trash bag without sorting it. The truth is, dark places harbor treasure. But you’ll never discover that treasure, let alone truly own it, until it’s been separated from the trash and brought into the light.
Really…why let the Raccoon King keep what’s yours?