It’s not always the large mischiefs that are my best work. Sometimes it’s the small, nagging, niggling things that mess with the human female just enough to keep her off-balance and have her questioning her control over her life and her surroundings.
Case in point: She’s been organizing and decluttering and trying to generally un-munge the house recently. Find a trouble spot? Eliminate it! She somehow has the notion that if only she can achieve a base level of tidy, it’ll all be maintenance thereafter.
Snort! I just I keep making new trouble spots.
The more inexplicable, the better.
This is why I make sure the this one spot of sealing gasket on top of the fridge door collects stains, crumbs, and…things.
She can’t figure out how. After all, it’s not as if the freezer above is showering down a rain of detritus, or that everyone who opens the fridge does so with very dirty hands and by the top of the door rather than the handle. She keeps cleaning it up. And yet every single day, more. . . stuff.
It’s the housework equivalent of a pebble in the shoe or a loose tooth.
Next up: that one corner of the bathroom that the shower door drips into when it’s opened and which collects dust, cat hair, and lint and always needs cleaning and that likewise daily drives her just a little bit further ’round the bend.