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In Search of Clean

I didn’t know where to begin this morning.

Which was how I ended up vacuuming the van.

I’d already stepped on the same piece of scrambled egg on the kitchen floor six times, thrown together sandwiches on bread from the freezer, quizzed my daughter on the times tables she didn’t feel like learning and picked through a basket of questionable laundry for a clean pair of little boy underwear.

I’d added more mail to the stack on the counter, listened to the dishwasher belch and wondered if the fruit flies weren’t procreating on my tomatoes on the sly.

They probably were.

It seemed that the speed of my hands to wipe, put away, fold and straighten would always be days behind.

Which was when I got into the van and started excavating.

I needed something to be clean.

Just something.

And so…I collected single flip flops and reunited them with their mates inside. I scooped up water bottles that had logged a quarter mile from the floor of the back seat to the front.  I threw out carcasses of snacks, gathered crunchy socks and made nine cents in pennies.

When I’d hefted the last of the vacuum cleaner into its closet, I paused again in the driver’s seat.

This was what I needed…

a moment alone…

in something clean.

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2 Responses to “In Search of Clean”

  1. Sarah says:

    AMEN! I Have yet to find that place, but sister I am searching for the moment to make it happen. I then may never leave that sanctuary.

  2. jeanne says:

    YES! We can sit in our respective vans ‘together.’

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