mess

Hello, do come in, sorry about the mess.

This is what I do with all new friends, so here we go. Welcome into my house. Admire my dining table, covered in correspondence, toys, arty creations (both mine and the children’s), and goodness knows what else. Probably bills down in there somewhere too.

Some people breathe in sharply, stand there with their eyes popping out, and never come back. I can’t deny it, that makes me feel like shit. But most people breathe in sharply, laugh, and breathe back out again. Then they relax. Like, totally relax. Because they know I will not be judging them. They know their housekeeping will never be criticised by me. They know I trust them enough to share my mess with them.

That’s the way I like to look at it anyway. Because try as I might, this table very rarely gets clear enough to be eaten off.

So… have you breathed out yet?

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