how it begins

My children were playing Harry Potter in the basement with friends. They use my suitcase as their trunk when they are waiting for the train to Hogwarts.

Somehow the suitcase made it to the top of the stairs before it was abandoned for another part of the story.

My husband moved the suitcase out of the hallway into our bedroom, next to my closet.

I came to bed after he was asleep and  tiptoed around in the dark getting my pajamas on because I am a considerate person who doesn’t want to wake anyone. (ever. I pretty much NEVER want to wake anyone. It’s a good rule to live by.)

I put the clothes I took off on top of the suitcase that was in front of my closet.

THAT is how a pile gets started around here.

It begins so innocently.

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2 responses to “how it begins

  1. Ha! I pile too. I have piles on my desk at work. It’s time to file. File. File. File. I will file soon. And I will stop piling clothes on top of that drying rack of clothes that were dry weeks ago…I think maybe I’ll start tomorrow.

  2. Yep, I a pile-r. As is my mother. So I “blame” genetics. I’m constantly battling piles in our home.

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