Now I've been in this house a hundred times. When they first moved in. Before remodel. After remodel. I couldn't even imagine what she had done different to make it a summer house.
With a wide grin on her face, she walks me through the family room where her laundry is piled on the floor, where she'd been folding. A teenager is sprawled out on the couch with her phone in her hand. Lunch dishes were on the counter, and so were the groceries she was putting away. A laptop sat on the island, having been worked on. "My summer house."
There is never a time when you walk into my house where I don't say, "Oh, excuse the mess!" Even if my house happens to be spotless. I seem to have this thing about "your" perception of us actually living in our house. (And there are 7 of us that live in this house.)
Her bright smile and "summer house" declaration gave me such joy! She didn't apologize for not having everything tucked away. She embraced it!
Yes, this is a summer house. Kids are here. We are here. Life is happening all around us and the laundry is on the floor. Dishes are being used at such an alarming rate, the dishwasher can't keep up. I'm in my car more than I am anywhere else, so how can I possibly get it "model home clean?"
She changed my life with that one phrase, and Theresa, I will forever be grateful to you for that!