I need a housewife.

I said this to my husband and he responded with “So do I!” as I attempted to find my socks this morning in 4 different piles of laundry on the floor.  As it turns out, more space in the new house just means more space to expand upon my bad habits.

“Maybe it would be easier to find something in the closet if you didn’t have so many Coach purses that you don’t even use”

Gasp “I do too use them” He didn’t mean that, girls as I admire my wall of purse beauty.

“When’s the last time that you used this yellow one?”

Wait, when is the last time that I used that one? “I use it, and you know, this isn’t helping me find my socks.”

Then I decided to go sock commando before he could inquire over more purse usage.

I went downstairs to grab a bottle of orange juice on my way out the door and couldn’t find one because my fridge is full of Thanksgiving left overs.  I’m so not kidding there.  That’s about the time I realized that my house still has Christmas decorations up that would rival a housewife on Black Friday, my pantry is empty, and my trash is overflowing on top of the dirty dishes that don’t fit in the sink. Who’s house is this?

Thus, I leave work in 2 hours for the rest of the day.  I plan on taking down Christmas, cleaning out my fridge, doing laundry and dishes, maybe clean a bathroom or two (or three), and pack my suitcase for my trip to Colorado tomorrow.

All of which would be easier to do if I had the help of a housewife.