The SOI Rule

Let's hope my dear husband doesn't read this one. I don't think he'd relish being the subject of my blog - no matter the topic.

But, I can't resist. I have to ask, am I the only one living with someone who follows the Step Over It rule?

You know what I'm talking about:

Shoe lying in the middle of the floor.
Step Over It.
Sippy cup leaking milk on the kitchen floor.
Step Over It.
Cheerio (not the dog) in your path.
Step Over It.

Are you getting the picture?

At first, I wanted to give him the benefit of the doubt. I thought it might be possible that things were being dropped on the floor after he walked through a room but before I followed in his path. But, no. When the kids are all locked upstairs* and he and I are the only ones downstairs, that just can't be.

He is quite a bit taller than I am. Maybe from up there his eyesight isn't what it should be. But, then there's the whole STEP OVER IT thing. Obviously, if he STEPS OVER IT, he sees it, right?

Close on the heels of the SOI rule is the Leave It There rule. Sometimes they obviously coincide. But, the LIT rule covers more than just the floor. Pistachio shells on the kitchen table? LIT. Newspapers scattered about due to curious crawler? LIT. Shampoo bottle in the toilet (also due to the curious crawler). LIT. Leaves and dirt clumped together with sap tracked all over the carpet? LIT. Cat barf on the rug? LIT (after notifying your spouse, of course).

I have to admit that I'm not the best housekeeper. My baseboards are not cleaned weekly (or even monthly, for that matter). If you surprise me with a visit you may even find the occasional clump of dog hair floating around. But, I really do try to at least keep the house fairly neat and clutter-free. After all, I can't afford to have a visitor sue me for tripping over something in my house.

Maybe my dear husband is just trying to challenge me. Or, maybe he thinks that since I have the time to blog (in the middle of the night) I have the time for constant walk-throughs. Or, maybe he just figures that I'm closer to the ground, so I should be the one to pick everything up.

Anyway, things are going to have to change. There's not much enamel left on my molars.


P. S. For the sake of my husband and my readers, I'll table the IDIL** discussion I was going to include.

P.S.S. For the record, I just want to state that I know my wonderful mother-in-law did NOT raise her son this way. Something must have happened between her house and mine.


* locked on the second floor via stair gates - not locked in closets or anything.
** I'll Do It Later