A (temporary) New World Order

Yesterday, my wife departed Fort Worth on a short trip to visit our son in Philadelphia.

She and I are more grandparents than parents these days, so when she is gone I am left in the house to fend for myself. I don't mind, in fact, I kind of like a few days to watch too much television, leave the potato chip bag on the coffee table, and find my books and magazines wherever it is that I had last left them.

I have a re-organizational ritual on occasions like this which, I am sure, is rooted in a male territorial instinct. Here it is:

1. I clean and reorganize the refrigerator. It doesn't need cleaning but I like to be able to easily get to the few things I want.
2. I do my laundry and stack the clean clothes on the dryer. Why bother putting them away?
3. Bathroom. I find the biggest towel I can and throw it on the floor. It's more masculine, like a locker room.
4. I put the dishes away and close up the dishwasher for the duration. No need for dishes now, I'm going to paper plates, baby.
5. Clear the kitchen counters of all bric-a-brac. Bricabrac is defined as anything that looks nice but serves no purpose and just gets in my way.
6. Pull out a roll of paper towels, place on kitchen counter. I'm feeling better already.
7. Rearrange the living room furniture to maximize comfort and to minimize extraneous movement (see photo above). The goal is for everything that is frequently needed to be at arms length of the couch. I then run through a mental checklist of the near-couch necessities:

Books -- check,
Crossword puzzles -- check,
Pens -- got 'em,
TV Remote on coffee table -- check
Wall Street Journal -- check.
Laptop on coffee table, check.
Baseball schedule and basketball playoffs for the week. AOK.

 The final step in this domicilic-bonding is to go shopping for items that I particularly like. Not that the wife doesn't keep me supplied, but I always need a few things. This time I went to my favorite store, Dollar General, and picked up the following (see picture): paper plates, bag of dry pinto beans (not sure why I bought those), jalapeno papers, cereal, lots of cereal, paper towels, albacore tuna in water, Triscuit wheat crackers.

Upon completion of all these things, I look at all that I have done, and declare, "It is good." Male order has been restored. I have re-marked my territory.

In a couple days I'll be complaining about it being too quiet, but for now, I'm ready for some serious time-wasting.

(Miss you, dear, and I will clean up before you get back. Love, Me)