idiosyncrasies

When my parents were here, my mother complimented me on my organizing skills. At first I thought she was joking. Then I realized she was being serious (which makes Bobby either laugh or groan). And this made me feel good for two reasons: one, constructive criticism is a refined art in my family; two, I needed some edification at that point.
Of course, part of the organization is a carry-over from inviting families over for an Easter egg hunt. But even that in itself points to my craziness. Instead of cleaning the hallway which everyone would see, I cleaned and organized the pantry (except for that dreadful top shelf which I can't reach anyway). My kitchen table always stays a mess. My husband likes to joke that he forgets the top of the dresser and his desk are actually wood. And the laundry room is an overflowing, monstrosity that seems to take a life of its own. HOWEVER, my pots and pans are stacked according to size. The small spoons stay in their own slot, as do the small forks, etc. My glasses are arranged in the cabinet according to style and size. And I keep my clothes closet somewhat organized (we won't talk about the fact that I own clothes I haven't been able to fit into in three years!). So I am organized, just not in places or ways that are apparent to most people. And I tell myself as long as I stay organized in some areas, then the rest of the mess is okay.