The Clothing Monster© 2004 Christine Louise HohlbaumThere is no doubt about it. My house is haunted. We don’t have the regular kind of ghosts with rattling chains and a white sheet. I wish we did. I have heard normal ghosts don’t reaarange the furniture or take out board games without putting them away later, and they certainly don’t litter. In fact, they are rather transparent and are more apt to slam doors on windy October nights than to breach the domestic organization I hold so dear to my heart. No, no! We have a different kind of goblin in our household. It is the kind that requires me to cull through the closets on a weekly basis. We seem to amass more textiles in our household than any loom in India can create in one year. Our spirit strews clothing about the floors and onto random chairs. If I see a lone sock hanging off the chandelier, I know who did it. At first, I thought it was my family. Gingerly approaching my two kids, I asked how their pajamas landed in the middle of their bedroom floors, almost simultaneously and without explanation. They peered at me with blank eyes and shrugged. “The clothing monster again, huh?” My motherly gaze pierced their innocent stares, and they nodded grimly. “I knew it!” Without a word, my two kids picked up their pjs and put them in their proper places. Given the scientific nature of my husband’s mind, I tried a different tactic with him. “Have you any idea how your jeans and three pairs of dirty underwear got onto my grandmother’s white wingback chair?” I asked gently. I dared not remove the offensive items lingering stinkily on their perches. It was best that my husband see to that. The same blank look my kids had given me rested on my husband’s face. He hadn’t a clue how they got there. Biting my lower lip, I thought about how best to handle my quandry. The next day I had a brilliant idea. Propping up a video camera, I decided to catch the clothing monster on film. With 120 minutes of tape time remaining on my digital camera, I knew I could catch him in the act and prove to my family that I am not as crazy as they think. Following the adage that a watched pot never boils, I took a walk for an hour, then a bike ride. When I returned the film had just finished. Or so I thought. The light on the camera was not illuminated. When I checked it, it had not recorded a single second. As I turned around, I suddenly noticed how clean the house was. No discarded bathing suits were left wet and rotting under the coffee table. No shoes had been kicked off aimlessly to block foot traffic in the foyer. No musty bath towels were hanging from the wooden dining room chairs. My husband wore an apron and a tired smile. The kids’ rooms were spotless, and the children were quietly playing a board game in the living room. Bags of used clothing were stacked neatly in the foyer for the church’s annual clothing drive. I dried a tear as I gave my husband a squeeze. Something told me my family had chased the clothing monster away for good this time. ----------------------------------------------------- Christine Louise Hohlbaum, American author of Diary of a Mother: Parenting Stories and Other Stuff, has been published in hundreds of publications. When she isn’t writing, leading toddler playgroups or wiping up messes, she prefers to frolic in the Bavarian countryside near Munich where she lives with her husband and two children. Visit her Web site: http://www.DiaryofaMother.com. Or go to amazon directly to purchase your copy of Diary of a Mother today! Sign up to Mommy's Helper - Mom's Market Ezine for marketing tips, business resources, and much more. |