You watch, I’ll come home tonight to find my living room furniture bolted to the floor.
Our TV will be permanently fastened to the wall. And the pantry door will have a lock on it.
My daughter has learned to eat her meals quickly, without the slightest interruption, because if her plate is left unattended for only the shortest amount of time, she knows it will disappear.
My wife eats standing up, guarding her side of our bedroom closet.
The reason for all of this is simple, and I do not apologize for it. I’m a freak when it comes to spring-cleaning. F-R-E-A-K. Sherman didn’t go through the South with any more force than I can go through our house this time of year.
Nothing is safe. If I haven’t seen it, used it, needed it or wondered about in a year, then I see no reason to keep it. It’s gone.
You know that closet that seems to have taken on a life of its own? Give me a half-hour with it, and I’ll have it standing tall in no time.
How about the garage where nothing seems to be in place? I can fix that, too.
And that stack of papers on the desk in the den? Puh-lease.
Here’s a guarantee you can bet your house on. You will never see me on the TV show, “Hoarders.”
You’re more likely to see me on “Extreme Makeover, Home Edition.” I’ll be the guy driving the big bulldozer with a big smile on my face.
I hate trash. I hate clutter. When everything is out of place, it’s as if my mind just won’t kick into gear.
I wasn’t always this way.
My parents say I was a typical teenager in that I left clothes everywhere and put important homework in places the world never knew existed. I was more like Oscar Madison than Felix Unger.
But then I became a lawyer, and I was entrusted to clean up the messes in people’s lives.
Relationship issues. Financial mismanagement. I began spending my days prioritizing what was important in people’s lives and what wasn’t. What emotions needed to be expressed and what needed to be thrown away? By the time people find their way to my office, the junk has piled up pretty high in all directions.
Success involves clearing everything away so they can see the light at the end of the tunnel.
I suppose it’s only natural that I brought that perspective into my own home.
It’s reached the point now that I can’t sit and watch TV if there are dirty dishes in the sink, or a pile of clothes in the middle of the laundry room floor. I can’t relax on the veranda and enjoy small talk if I can see the grass needs cut.
I am my father’s son. Get your work done, then sit back and enjoy.
The trick is to not take the neatness thing too far, which I have done a time or two.
That’s where the bolts and locks come in. My wife will only let me go so far.
But it’s still April. The flower beds have weeds and the tool shed has a ton of dust. Plus, the spare bedroom has a closet that hasn’t been touched in quite a while.
Anyone know how to pick a lock?