And Behind Door #3…

This morning, I was getting ready for work and I had let Harley out to do her thing.

I let her stay outside about 15 or 20 minutes, and completely forgot that it had rained all night.

She came racing as, as she normally does, only she had mud all over her feet.

Before I could catch her, there were about 10,000 pay prints from one end of my house to the next.

Muddy paw prints everywhere.

It looked like Hannibal and his army had marched right through my living room.

What are ya gonna do?

I went right back and started blow drying my hair.

She is always really wound up in the morning, I think she know, in fact I KNOW she knows, that once the hair dryer stops, I’m headed out.

She’s started this game now where once that hair dryer goes off, POOF, she vanishes.

This morning, she ran upstairs into the boys room. I kept calling her back down.

She hasn’t had an accident in a long time, but we are leery of letting her go in their rooms, because our Pug who passed away last year would always use a kid’s room if he couldn’t hold it.

Well, it was getting close for me to go, and Ms Thang was upstairs, refusing to come down.

Up I went, into the no mans land of our upstairs family game room and the man caves of my three male offspring. I really avoid that entire area of our house unless, say, the house is on fire, or, um, there is a winning lotto ticket up there.

Other than that, I do not go up there. The bathroom germs alone could scar you for life, permanently.

But, I needed to catch my pooch before I left for the day, and she wasn’t coming down voluntarily.

I looked behind Door #1:

Not too bad? Yes, that’s a tuba. A few things on the floor. Given that he’s almost 13, I didn’t think the room was too bad.

On to Door #2:

This one, which is truly the MAN CAVE of the 3, really was not bad either.

He must have known I would walk in there at some point because all things considered, given the fact that two weeks ago it smelled so bad we all thought someone had died in there, I was kinda impressed? As impressed as you can be that a room doesn’t smell like sulphuric acid?

And, behind  Door #3, my oldest child, the one who complains if I do his laundry wrong so he does it himself, the one who is always yelling at the other 2 because they don’t flush the toilet and pee on the floor and all sorts of other horrendous male things that he has ‘no part of,’ well, Harley was in there, and this was HIS room:

It’s a good thing Harley came out voluntarily because really, there could have been a homeless person living in that room, and I would never know it.

We could have had an ET moment where if she had just frozen, like Drew Barrymore in the closet with ET when the mom goes looking, I would never have been able to pick her out of that teenage bedroom landscape.

If something had of moved, I would have screamed, but not been too surprised. I might have offered them a meal even, since room #2, while clean, had an entire stash of Goldfish and cookies that you cannot see in the photo.

I think some of my missing dishes are in there.

Certainly the good towels we cannot find are on that floor.

Let’s play I Spy.

I spy a plastic gun.

I spy a rubber snake.

I spy orange crocs, neatly set together, as if that matters by this point.

I spy a tire rim? {I have no idea. Not asking, either.}

I’m starting to think that every item that has gone missing in the last 6 months, most of which my husband has accused me of losing, and most of which is NOT mine, has likely been sucked straight into that hurricane of a room.

The funniest part?

When I called Harley out and then stood there looking into the teenage aftermath, she stopped and sat next to me and looked in there with me. 

I know exactly what she was thinking.

“Yeah, and you thought I am messy.”

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