Where the Clutter Ends

Husband is the master of clutter.

In my life his clutter is a bit like the music one is subjected to while on hold waiting to talk to a representative of some random company or another, background noise that is highly annoying but on occasion you find yourself singing along with it because it rather rocks. Sometimes I want to sweep it all into a trash bag with one great swoop of my arm and fling it in the alley and at other times it gives me permission to clutter right along with him.

Carter seems to have received the clutter gene from Husband. His cluttering tends to consist more of a scattering of books than a concentrated pile of make-me-grumpy, but there is one exception. The end of our dining room table.

Because it looks nice and provides more room, we keep the leaf in our dining room table and always have three chairs on each side. We, of course, only use four of the chairs and have our designated spots; Cody and I are across from each other closest to the kitchen. Husband sits next to me with Carter across from him. The two empty places are next to Husband and Carter. Except they are never empty due to their respective clutter.

A couple days ago, fed up with Carter’s dining room table clutter, I told him he needed to tidy it up. He did and that section of the table, usually covered with books, cups, baseball cards, and trinkets was a beautifully empty. I was happy.

But apparently this newly uncovered space caused Carter some trouble. Last night during dinner he motioned to the table next to him where a couple items had already found there way and moved in.

“Without my clutter I don’t know where things start or end.” he lamented.

He went on to admit that during lunch the other day, he accidently sat in the wrong place, the beautifully empty space. Now this could be due to him almost always having his nose in a book and the subsequent lack of observational skills that comes with this, but it does hint at a possible unhealthy relationship with his clutter.

Carter’s clutter (L) apparently helps him identify his spot at the table.

About Shoes

I am an elementary school teacher, a former microbiologist, a mom to a herd of two boys, and a grilled cheese sandwich and beer connoisseur.
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12 Responses to Where the Clutter Ends

  1. Rivergirl says:

    I can not stand random clutter. My husband is the clutter king. He clutters, I unclutter. We’ve been at it for 37 years and have it down to an art.

  2. I find cluttering therapeutic, but I often end up getting rid of EVERYTHING 🤣

    • Shoes says:

      Do you mean de-cluttering as therapeutic? I greatly enjoy tidying up, but only when it is my own stuff. I don’t know what to do with other peoples’ clutter.

  3. If I could show you a picture of the table spots of two of my girls, I would. I’m with you on this, for sure!

    • Shoes says:

      Dining room table clutter, when it interferes with family meals, is my line in the sand. We need four tidy places in which to eat. It would be ideal if the whole table could stay clutter free, but I am a realist.

      • Clutter itself seems like a science that deserves to be studied. Where does it come from? Why is it there? Where does it belong? Is it even needed? These are the questions that ought to be keeping the future Nobel Prize winner of Clutterology up at night.

  4. Marlapaige says:

    I am the clutterer. My husband goes around dec littering after me because I see it and take cues from it (like where to sit), but it doesn’t phase me. NOT having clutter makes me crazy. I can’t stand the empty space, the nothing left behind. It’s a void begging for something to belong. So I find fifty somethings and it’s all better. My husband hates that. He likes clean spaces and no clutter. For 20 years this has been a battle. He swipes my stuff into a bin, I put it back into the empty spots he left behind. And I ALWAYS know which pile of clutter has what. It used to drive him insane!

    • Shoes says:

      Ha! I LOVE the clean, clutter-free spaces that are rarely found in my house. I enjoy the look of a clean surface, void of anything except a vase of flowers or a decorative item. My husband’s clutter, is it sounds yours is, is his method of organization and he can tell me what is in each clutter pile. It is a difficult balance to maintain when a clutter lover and a clutter hater live together.
      Thanks for dropping by and leaving a comment!

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