Let me start this by saying I'm a self professed neat freak. I like things to be put away. I have an utter disdain for clutter. I can't stand piles of junk mail (that Deonne thinks he "might" read someday), old newspapers piled up needing to be recycled, toys scattered everywhere, dirty socks left where kids and Deonne take them off, dirty clothes dropped willy-nilly around bathrooms, bedrooms, and hallways.
I like to have the kitchen sink cleared, dishes in the dishwasher, and sink scrubbed when I turn out the lights to go to bed. I don't like feeling gritty things beneath my feet from playground sand tracked home in the kids' shoes or the endless array of crumbs that congregate under the kitchen table.
I didn't always used to be this way, however. I was a typical teenage slob. I drove my mother crazy with my piles of clothes, books, magazines, and junk throughout my room. She let me keep it that way - until it started trickling out of my room and into the hall - at that point she put her foot down and made me clean it up.
It must have been about the time I had my first apartment after returning from my stint in Europe when I finally began to want things clean. And because it was my own place, I had control over how messy it was.
Deonne and I have always butted heads about this. We've sort of come to the agreement that I'll never think the house is clean enough - while he doesn't see a problem with the leaning tower of mail that is about to collapse off the kitchen cart.
So you can imagine my surprise when I discovered something about my wonderful husband last night. Something I didn't know - after almost nine years of marriage.
Deonne is just as OCD about certain things as I am.
What do you ask? CDs. DVDs. Disks that are not in their proper cases. Who knew?
I have a habit of taking a CD or a DVD out of their respective players, and in a hurry to tend to whatever child is screaming or needing help in the potty or food that may be burning on the stove stick it in whatever open case I have. Even if it is not the right one. Which, as you can imagine, snowballs and takes a while to sort through to find the right disk for the right case. Apparently this drives my otherwise non-cleanly husband crazy.
Really? I asked him.
Really! He replies. They all need to be in their little homes.
I just laughed. Turns out I'm not the only neat-freak in the house after all.