There was one room....

in my house that was just for me. The "adult" room in our house. Reserved for adult things. Like my weekly ladies Bible study meetings, or small group get-togethers. Or for a minute or two of escape for me...with a cup of coffee and maybe a magazine. The one room in our house in which the carpet wasn't covered with juice stains, and vomit stains, and dog stains, where the couches and furniture were always perfectly dusted and pristine, and where I could, for a few seconds, forget that the rest of the house was in need of some serious cleaning. I'm referring to my living room. The long forgotten room of today's house. I've held on to it fiercely, wanting one whenever we do make the move up for more space, despite Matt's protests that "it never gets used." Well, it does....by me. Multiple times a day. It's MY retreat. Well....it was my retreat.

Cooking dinner. House is too silent. Go to check on kids. This is what I find......

That would be potting soil. Thrown all over the living room carpet. From my African violet I've had over a year. Yep. That's right. Words don't even begin to describe. So what do I do? Grab a camera of course....and laugh. It was better than crying. The guilty parties.

Life is never dull around here. Guess I'll be locking myself in the bathroom from now on for a little piece and quiet.