I love windows; I love the light they bring into my home. I love the natural light and the view of the bird’s nest in the tree. I love watching my kids play in the yard and... What’s this?
Ever since I’ve had kids, it’s not just the lenses in my glasses that get dirty before I even have time to say “Windex”! My windows—my vast, endless haven of light—my windows are dirty.
I’ve never washed as many windows as I have in the last two years. But one beautiful week in July, I got sick… and so did my windows. That’s when I realized my windows had become works of modern art!
I don’t know if it was the fever or my faltering sanity, but I had fun finding images in all the smudges on my windows. Like a Rorschach test, I imagined I was uncovering the meaning of my personality—or, why not, of my life. Small smudges in the living room, big smudges on the patio door… but… how is that even possible? How can my kids get my windows so dirty when I spend my days washing their hands? Washing their high chairs and putting away the dirty dishes? So they have the superpower of dirty little hands!
I figured that if I wanted to keep my beautiful windows free of little-hand smudges, I’d either have to wash them every 10 minutes or stand there constantly watching the outside! Maybe there’s a group called Window-Cleaner Moms Anonymous or, I don’t know, Window-Addicts Anonymous… I’ll look into it.
I should take another look at my Rorschach test—maybe it’ll suggest I buy some nice curtains. Who knows!