When the first thing you see (after trudging through an allegedly “accessible” snow covered driveway) is wet cat food splattered all over your refrigerator, you know that Someone Else has been living in your home.
When the newly washed spoons are all facing in the wrong direction, with one actually misappropriated to the fork section, you know.
When your coffee cups, which have been stacked upright, with one inside another since, oh, I don’t know, forever, are all upside down and piled on top of each other in a precarious fashion which will inevitably lead to one leaping out at you when it’s time for your morning coffee, you know.
When an entire half gallon of orange juice is decimated within two days of purchase, it’s a hint.
When your shower curtain sags occasionally because one (or sometimes two…or three) of the hooks has magically become dismantled from the rod, you know. It apparently takes great feats of strength to reach less than a foot above one’s head to re-hook the hooks. It’s strange, but somehow you know that Someone Else has been in the area.
When your collection of full garbage bags which haven’t been put to the curb is startlingly more than just one, you know. It’s a known fact that your town secretly changes the pickup day every week, and has not been on Monday morning since, oh, I don’t know, forever.
When you wake up in the morning to find a half-sliced tomato/open bag of bread/crumbs/dirty frying pan/18 used glasses, on or near the kitchen counter, which was empty the previous night, you know.
Part II: How to Know You Have a Mom Living in Your Home, by Someone Else
When her first words to you upon returning home from work are, “You’ve got to be kidding me!!!!”, you know, not only that you have done Something Terrible, but also, that this person is likely a Mom.
When your unique and ingenious ways of stacking coffee cups and brazen disregard for government controlling rules regarding placement of utensils in drawers or immediately washing dirty glasses is met with a speech about being up since 5:15 and how life isn’t fair and why taxes are necessary and another thing the garbage has been going out on Monday for forever, you know.
When your efforts to pick up your laundry and put the dirty dishes in the dishwasher and shoveling the driveway for fifteen minutes during a blizzard are nullified because there is a little wet cat food on the refrigerator, you know there is a Mom living in your house. So much for trying to do something good.
When apparently a container of orange juice is not actually meant to be consumed, and rather, should be left in the refrigerator to be wasted and thrown out weeks later, with complaints that you didn’t drink any of it, you know there is a Mom in your home. Drink it. Don’t drink it. Moms are confusing and sucky.
When you see a blog post complaining about stupid crap like a shower curtain (if it’s so easy to fix, fix it yourself) or the garbage (everyone forgets things now and then), it’s a hint that there is a Mom around. A picky, pain in the a$$ one. I’ll get to it eventually. Geesh.
Part III: Dear Someone Else, a letter written by A Mom