I'm neat.
As in, I put things away.
It wasn't always so. In grade school they used to call me Templeton, after the pack rat in Charlotte's Web.
My mother was the inventor of the rule "there must be a clear path to
the door in case of fire" which I passed on to my children. When I would
drop stuff willy-nilly wherever I happened to be standing, I'd tell her
I was leaving little reminders of myself. To which she replied, "you're
just afraid we'll forget you if you don't leave your crap all over."
Ah, the wisdom of mothers.
Mom
was not too far off-- now that I have no one I need to remind of my
existence I find things go where they belong as soon as I'm done with
them. It's effortless, really. Cleaning becomes actually cleaning, not
just putting stuff away.
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