I really hate the pop-in

My house was clean two days ago. No one decided to stop by two days ago. My house has returned to its natural state of chaos and disarray. I entertained five drop-in visitors this afternoon.

Why does it always happen this way? There were at least 12 pairs of shoes at the bottom of the stairs, a huge pile of laundry within eyesight, clean laundry draped over the railing, and a pile of odds and ends I was trying to go through but from which I apparently got distracted. And that was just what you could see from the door, heaven forbid I invite anyone in to see the real mess.

The best was when Kitty's friend's dad came to pick up his daughter.  Here comes Chickie with her dirty chocolate face, her pool cover-up unzipped all the way revealing a soggy diaper, and her hair greased and tangled from sunscreen. On her way down the stairs she stepped on the pile of mail I left there a few minutes prior and proceeded to make a slow slip to the bottom. In my jaded mother-of-soon-to-be-four way I just kind of watched it happen, while I saw panic flash across the dad's face. She was fine and I laughed it off like "dumb baby, she's gotta learn to watch out for the mail, duh".

Or how about when the super clean, organized, whatever neighbor decided to stop by looking for Jared? He has an uncanny knack of popping in at the least opportune time. There was one time I pulled into the driveway while sternly telling the kids something important and when I turned to get out of the car, there he was, just standing there.  Weird.  Anyway, tonight he stopped in after John and Kitty had each enjoyed a can of cream soda on the porch.  Naturally, I've trained my kids to leave empty soda cans anywhere but the trash, so when this neighbor came by he had to step over the empty cans, awesome.

If you're going to drop by, please do so every third day, thanks.