When I was a kid, I wished I had a sister. There was one main reason for this, I wanted to share a room. We mostly lived outside back in those days, a million years ago. It was considered the ultimate punishment to have to "go in". I had never heard of "sleeping over" and culturally it was quite strange to even go in someone else's house, let alone their bedroom. If you were waiting, you politely stood at the front door, trying not to notice every detail on the wallpaper or floor mat because that would be deemed "nosey". You can imagine the shock when my first day in the US, ladies came by with treats, stepping in my door and wanting a tour!! I remember being in a friends room one day while she got some things together and being in awe of the fact that there were two, single beds. How cool, a best friend to stay up late with and share stories of boys with and swap clothes. That's how I envisioned it, until I had kids of my own who shared rooms and while I'm sure there were occasional late night bonding sessions, there were also many fights over who's "stuff" was on who's side etc and the mountains of excuses as to why the other room mate needed to clean up.
I had my own brief taste of sisterhood when Boyd's younger sister stayed with us for a few weeks after a mission. She borrowed shoes and rummaged in drawers for tweezers and things I guess sisters do but for me that was enough to convince me I had been blessed by having my own room growing up.
Why am I sharing this thought? Well sometimes I realize my cultural cross overs have caused me a little confusion. I love the fact that I am more open to visits and neighbors but at the same time, wish everyone didn't feel it was their right to know all my business. Confusing.
I also wonder who decided we had to share a room with our spouse. LOL. Two adults who are happy to give kids their own space whilst we have to share. One of us is a thousand degrees whilst the other is frozen, one snores while the other DOES NOT. One gets up at the crack of dawn and the the other at noon yet we somehow think this makes for a good roomy. I'm laughing as I write this because I wouldn't have it any other way (although I've heard many successful marriages do have separate rooms)but today my post was sparked by this:
Since my man got home from scout camp, he has been super busy and then he went and pulled a muscle in his neck. I have spent the last 72, or so hours in my room watching the Olympics (or at least, NBC's "Americans at the Olympics")and can no longer ignore the chaos which surrounds me. How am I supposed to lay motionless on my bed, except the odd movement to get food in to my mouth, when there is piles of stuff every where? So, I have found it necessary to break down and clean the room, even though it's not my stuff.(Not this time anyway)
I actually laughed as I did my room sweep this morning, that Jordan has switched from, total slob, messiest room mate ever to:
Asha, who really is the messiest...
informing me, the rocks are purposely placed, because she doesn't like the room too tidy.
Then, the reason I suspect her room is tidy at all is...
She sneaks in to Ronan's to sleep. Most teenage boys would tell their little sister to get lost but I hear him reading to her late at night. I guess not everyone want's their own room.