We were gathered 'round
television, where Little Lady was watching an episode of Stuart Little. The kids had entered their house for a Home Of The Year contest sponsored by some fancy magazine.I turned to my wife with yet another one of my way-too-brilliant ideas. "Why don't we enter Home Of The Year contest?" I asked.
My wife looked around in horror. "What? With this place?"
Little Lady, just over two years old, was looking for green crayon. "Sure," I replied, obviously missing something. "Why not? It's a great home."
"This place is a mess," my wife said in frustration, as she started slipping videos back into their sleeves. "What magazine would call this home of year? Dump Monthly? Trash Can News? Oh, I know – Bad Housekeeping?"
Little Lady emptied crayon box on floor. "Oh come on," I answered. "This is a wonderful home full of love and joy. See all drawings taped to wall?"
"In Home Of The Year, there are no crayon drawings taped to wall," my wife explained with just a hint of patience. "There might be an original Rembrandt or Van Gogh, or perhaps an exceptional imitation. It would be placed in an elegant frame." Little Lady found green crayon. Now she needed a sheet of paper on which to draw.
"I don't know," I hesitated. "Rembrandt and Van Gogh don't sound very homey. I suspect you might find them in Museum Of The Year contest."
"Just look at this dust!" my wife cried. She blew on top of television set, which temporarily vanished into haze.
Little Lady emptied her bookshelf with one fell swoop, but still could not find paper on which to draw.
"OK, so it's dusty," I admitted. "If we dusted more frequently, we would spend less time together and it would be less of a home."
