Simplify.

I have this friend, and her house looks like a craft boutique.

Her walls are adorned with meticulously “random” distressed shelves. On the shelves are jumbles of cutesy knick-knacks, stuffed with more [tinier] knick-knacks. There are plate racks and bakers racks, festooned with trailing ivy. There are hand-made tea-dyed pillows on every chair and flat surface, stitched with heart-felt sayings and quotes. There are throw rugs, and throw quilts, and she always, always has a scented candle burning.

And in the midst of all the colorful clutter there is a hand-made sign. It is black and cream crackle paint, and it is huuuuuge. And it has one word on it:

“Simplify.”

(In Times New Roman, italic, ‘cause us scrappers know our fonts..)

I have to control the urge to ask her if she even knows that sign is there. Maybe it was a subliminal message tacked up on the wall by a frustrated cleaning lady. (‘Cause ain’t nobody going to dust all that crap themselves..)

So I have been thinking a lot about the irony. And about simplifying my own life. So last night, when I was hating making lunches for the kids I was thinking how I could simplify the nightly ordeal. They never eat the good stuff in their lunches. Well, they do eat the good stuff, just not the healthy stuff. So why do I feel compelled to represent all of the food groups? They don’t get eaten. I had a really great idea. I got a disposable Tupperware, filled it full of Cap’n Crunch, and filled a thermos full of milk. I even included a plastic spoon, cause I am nurturing like that. That’s it. Lunch. And maybe dinner. Easy-peasy.

I think it will be a big hit.