Rotten Bananas

I don't know if I should blog about this or not...I'm being brave.

Please don't email me after you read this and ask, "Were you talking about me?"

Over the years I've observed very clean people who, after bringing their first child into their home, kinda let their hygiene go to the wayside. You know, dirty homes, showering twice a week, yesterday's leftovers still out on the kitchen table...you get my drift. I always made a promise to myself that I'd never let it come to that. Regardless of what chaos a child might bring into my life, I was going to remain a clean person.

And then yesterday came. I was sitting on the couch after just putting Eden down for a nap. I was having some nice stare into the oblivion time when I realized I had my shirt on inside out. Not a huge deal.

But that's not all.

Then I looked down on my sleeve..."Oh man! I've got her poop on my sleeve!"

Lovely, I know.

And that's what made me realize I'd become one of those people. I'd become a dirty parent. I hadn't showered in two days (hey folks, I'm sick too, so don't hate on me too much), I had my shirt on inside out, poop on my sleeve, & rotting bananas drawing more and more fruit flies in the fruit bowl. So it's official.

Why do we do this? Why does bringing an innocent little baby into our home turn us into such dirty creatures? And I realize it could be worse, but this is bad for me people. I hate rotting bananas.

So from here on out, I'm changing the norm of parenthood. No more filth. No more poopy sleeves. No more fruit flies. No more trash piling up until it's overflowing.

You can hold me to it.