Lost and Found

I think I may have mentioned once or twice (or a hundred times) that I am not the greatest housekeeper in the world. I have no illusions about the dust bunnies that have made their home under my furniture or the spider webs that occasionally turn into magnificent mansions to which the residents regularly invite their friends and relatives. I know I won't be invaded by the Hoarders crew (at least not yet) but I will cop to a certain amount of frantic cleaning any time we host an event that would include anyone blessed with the gift of sight.

My husband, a much neater, more organized soul who has long given up on his vision of an orderly, uncluttered home similar to the one he grew up in, looks forward to any excuse to host a party. "Hey, it's Groundhog Day/Shark Week/J. Edgar Hoover's Birthday", he'll announce when he can't take it any longer, "let's invite the gang over". That's when I go into high gear, scurrying around trying to get the house to resemble something close to the one he would like to live in every day.

During this last mad frenzy I decided to go where I don't usually go; where no one around here goes - under the couch - the last resting place for many lost or forgotten objects.  In my defense, we have a family room that doesn't lend itself to moving furniture around so that heavy piece of upholstered refuge has occupied the same spot for a very long time. I might also mention that my husband, in his daily, non-party mode frustration, is often prone to slipping/shoving/kicking unwanted items in, into, or under whatever will hide them the quickest. I recently discovered one of the kid's baby toys on top of a non-visible shelf in our bathroom. Our youngest will be twenty-five in November.

Determined to re-arrange the furniture, I planted my feet and shoved the couch away from its long-standing residence against the wall. On my hands and knees, with a quick time-out for a prayer to bless me with better housekeeping skills and/or a lifetime contract with Merry Maids, I started gathering the once wanted, now forgotten bounty, That's when I realized that this treasure trove deserved a list. The Guinness people might someday be interested.

Under my sofa I found: eleven pens, 1 plastic (real would have been scary) knife, 1 cloth napkin (used to wipe one's hands before throwing it under the couch?), 1 half roll of toilet paper (I don't even want to know), 2 hair clips, 1 sock (so that's where that was hiding), 4 magazines, 3 tennis balls, 4 free weights, 1 slipper (who needs slippers until November), 1 Bears hat (probably thrown in disgust at the end of last season), 1 Happy Birthday balloon on a stick, 1 exercise band, and a half-finished crossword puzzle.

After finishing the puzzle, I put away/trashed all the other items and vacuumed. By the time our guests arrived, we had a new seating arrangement and a carpet free of dust bunnies and other unwanted visitors. Weeks later, I'm happy to say, there is still nothing residing under our couch.

Our bed? Maybe it's time for a slumber party.