They say that your bedroom serves as a window of sorts into your personality. Well, if that’s the case, I wonder what tidbits can be gleamed about myself from the current chaotic state of my room. Looking into that so-called window becomes extremely difficult when the blinds are shut morning, noon and night. Good luck to you nosy folks trying to sneak around and unlock insight into what I am all about because you’ll find just like when company comes over that the bedroom door remains shut.

I guess you could call the bedroom the Stephen Baldwin of rooms because it goes largely ignored in light of its’ more popular brothers: living, dinning and bath. Like Rodney Dangerfield it gets no respect. Now don’t get me wrong. I desperately want to squash the nasty rumors going around about the person who mysteriously disappeared during game night after accidentally turning left instead of right on their way to the bathroom.

The thing is when you are cleaning like a mad man and are up against the clock; your bedroom suddenly becomes a great hiding place for all the things you don’t know what to do with. For obvious reasons, the cleanliness of your bedroom ranks low on the totem pole of priorities when you are entertaining guests.

You see it is highly unlikely Jenn will decide out of the blue that the perfect location for the smoldering fondue pot is the middle of our bed over the duvet cover. Chances are good we’re not going to be sitting on throw pillows playing Uno, Catchphrase or Hearts. Neither will the guys be huddled around the 26 inch TV with the wing tray laid out on our dresser when the big screen in the living room makes watching the Redskins lose a lead in the final minutes of the 4th quarter even that more painful.

The problem arises once all of the guests have long since gone and all Jenn and I can think of is entering dream world. It feels like the bed is calling our name. Unfortunately, his voice is muffled due to the pile of laundry resting on top of it. We open the door; walk delicately through the landmine field and after pushing all the ‘stuff’ off, collapse in bed.

We have ever intention of dealing with the mess in the morning, but wouldn’t you know it the girls are raring to go before the crack of dawn demanding our full attention. Chipping away at it bit by bit causes the tide to turn. For the most part, the bedroom goes back to normal for a while. However, everything doesn’t always go back to its proper place and over time the collection of stuff grows. What should be a peaceful sanctuary has the tendency to become a graveyard where knick-knacks go to meet their maker.

Maybe my domestication effort is rubbing off on me because this trend is coming to an end. Look out world. Don’t let that door swinging open smack you in your face. The next time Jenn and I are entertaining the cleaning process will start with the bedroom first. This way while friends are mingling and enjoying appetizers they can see where the magic happens….the magic of my cleaning ability that is.