My girls are at my sister's house for a slumber birthday party. My hubby is working. That means.... the house is all to myself! It's quiet here and I've got so much to do, but of course I'm wasting time. My best time to write is at night when I'm most sentimental, tired, and can process the whole day as I'm winding down. So I wanted to write my thoughts about my evening before tomorrow begins and a whole new set of thoughts kick in.
On my way home tonight, I got to visit my hubby at the fire station, which is something I don't get to do too often anymore. Since he moves around to all the stations in the township, he just happened to be in the not-so-nice part of town when I called. He reminded me of the directions to get there but instructed me to stay in the car and call him so he could come out and walk me into the station. This isn't uncommon as most of the time I don't know the code to get in the station so he has to come out and get me anyway. But this station is different. This is the kind of area you don't want to get out of the car anyway when you're passing through. As I was leaving the station to go home, I noticed a list of addresses on the white board that contains messages, announcements and fire-related stuff. There was a list of addresses with notes. I wish I had thought to take a picture of the list but I figured it wouldn't have been allowed since they were actual addresses. The notes after the addresses were like the following:
- No floor boards
- Stuff stacked to the ceiling on second floor
- Used syringes all over the floor
- 15 kids living there
- 10+ pit bulls
- Hoarder - 10 cats, 6 dogs and 1 goat, all dead
- Active TB
- Gangland - wait for police
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- How can people live like that?
- They don't know any better, that was the way they were raised.
- They don't care about anything but that moment's moment.
- 15 kids in one small house?????? one house??? That probably didn't include all the other relatives, too.
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I get it now. I totally get why my husband comes home and gets perturbed when the house is a mess. When there's fingerprints all over the glass door or when the girls (accidentally) write on their bedroom wall or dresser. I totally get when my husband wants to rush off to the store and buy new clothes for the girls when one pair of their jeans gets a hole, why he gets into a cleaning frenzy when there's crumbs on the kitchen counter. These people that my husband has to deal with while he's at work is why he works as hard as he does so that his family would never be put in a situation like that list above.
Now, will the house occasionally be a mess when my hubby gets home from work? Sure! Will our feet occasionally stick to the floor when I haven't gotten around to mopping it for over a week? Sure! Will there still be mold in the toilet because I haven't gotten around to scrubbing it out yet? Absolutely! But I totally and utterly get why my husband has developed an OCD on cleanliness. I "get" it - I totally "get" it.
Dedicated to my wonderful husband, Jeff. I love you so much!