Dust made me happy

A few weekends ago we went to my parents house for the weekend. Going there is great and frustrating at the same time. The kids LOVE spending time with their grandparents especially on the beach. Grandma's is always super fun. They play with them and are just fun to be around- I love watching them interact.

It can also be exceedingly frustrating... as it is a different place than home bedtime can be tough and over night can be also be more labor intensive than normal. Also, it reminds me of my short-comings. My home is A LOT smaller than Grammy's house but her house is typically spotless. Floors clean, things put away, basically neat. My house does not see clean that much- there are always loads of laundry in various stages of done- dishes are usually somewhere, the floors are not spotless, there are toys out, and there is dust. Lots of it.

My mother is one of those perfect women. She is pretty, she is smart, she is kind, she is a good mom, a good wife, a good cook, a good well everything. I grew up having my house be amazingly and shockingly clean, having food cooked every night for a family dinner, and a built in homework helper. I am not so patient, not so kind, not so smart, not as clean.... Certainly not as clean.

This time, I opened a window and was thrilled to find dust on the outside of the window- between the glass and the screen. Insignificant--- very insignificant--- but it made me see that maybe- possibly- she is not perfect.