I've never been one to keep a truly immaculate house but back when my kids were young it used to be uncluttered. Now that I'm an empty nester my Operation Christmas Child journey has complicated things. My husband built himself a room just to get away from shoebox stuff. And I'm starting to get tired of the constant clutter myself. Thus, the following ode---
Shoebox Stuff Blues
An old woman who lives in a ranch-style house (blue)
Has so much shoebox stuff she doesn't know what to do.
Every spare room has stuffed animal piles.
If laid end-to-end they might stretch on for miles.
The carpets are covered with fillers galore,
Enough, if she wanted, to start a small store.
The beds are all draped with clothing assorted
And boxes hold pencils that need to be sorted.
Folks bring donations that fill her with glee
But add to the mountain of messes, you see.
Her friends clean their houses and make windows gleam,
But simply just seeing her rug is her dream.
While others plan wardrobes and organize too,
Washing stuffed animal's what she will do.
And so if you visit and walk through her door,
Forgive the appearance of windows and floor.
Eternity's coming, and if she can choose,
Her mansion will not have those Shoebox Stuff Blues.