Willing To Admit I’m Wrong

Sooooo, in this “coming clean” process I experience quite a spectrum of moods.

On the high end, there’s “Woo-hoo, I’ve got this housekeeping thing down!”

On the low end, there’s “I’m a slob, I’ll always be a slob, there’s no hope for me!”

Most days, I manage to keep it in the middle, but some days I get to experience both . . . within hours.

For example, last Friday when Hubby was searching for a second navy blue sock.  He looked and looked, and I may have said something like, “Well, all I know is that I’ve been doing every last piece of laundry every single week and so if it isn’t in your drawer, you must not have put it in the dirty clothes pile!”

And I might have said it with great confidence.

And then, while doing a 15 minute pick-up later that morning, (since I had neglected to do several days worth of 5 minute pick-ups), I started putting away those last few pieces of clean laundry that had stayed on the mostly-cleared loveseat all week . . . and guess what I found.

A navy blue sock.

I attached a little note and left it where he would see it right away.  I’m willing to admit when I’m wrong.

I just wish I didn’t have to admit it so often.