The sister-in-law and family are coming over from London this weekend to spend their spring vacation with us, and naturally I want the house to be spic and span before their arrival. That being said, however, there is a slight problem. Although I’m a major fan of cleanliness, I am no great fan of cleaning. Duh!
But what needs to be done, needs to be done, I guess. And since I hate being miserable on my own, I (forcibly) roped in the husband for my cleaning project yesterday. So while I scrubbed and scoured the rest of the house, I assigned him the (relatively) simple task of introducing a semblance of order to the chaos that was his wardrobe. Unfortunately for me though, the husband and I (or the rest of the world, for that matter) have very different perceptions of the term ‘order’.
Not a problem, actually! Our home has one of those nice all-American walk-in wardrobes, so I could push him in and keep him there till his side of the wardrobe was neat enough for my satisfaction. He still tried to sneak out from time to time, claiming the job was done, only to be pushed right back in of course! So now you know why I love walk-in wardrobes so much.
One of the requirements of his task was to arrange his bundled-up clothes into two neat piles – old clothes for home-use, and the good stuff to be worn outside. After a couple of foiled attempts to escape, he seemed to have resigned himself to his task, for I spied him bossing over his clothes in his frustration.
‘Tu ghari thaamb, tu baher ja’, I heard the King of shirts, trousers and tees alternately order his subjects, as he placed them neatly on one pile or the other! (‘You stay at home, you can go out!’) Giggle, giggle!