Hello from the depths of housecleaning, clearing, yard sales, boxes, attics, and please-don’t-walk-on-the-floors-because-I-just-mopped-them-and-someone-might-come-look-at-the-house-today.

Dustin and I haven’t moved in five years. That’s pretty unusual for a military family. Now we are moving to Bangor, Maine. And, well, I think I know why Uncle Sam normally keeps us on the go: when you stay in one place too long, you acquire too much junk!

Keeping our house “show ready” is near impossible with three — no make that four — boys living under one roof. You can only straighten baseball cleats and flight boots so many times before you want to poke a sharp object in your eye. I spend a large majority of my days lately making sure our house appear as if no one lives in it (per our Realtor’s orders). Each morning, I make the rounds to flush toilets (why, oh why, is it so hard to remember to flush the toilet?), put socks in the hamper, hide the XBox, and flip the pillow to the side that hasn’t been drooled on. But that’s just to clean up after my husband. For the kids, I must also rinse toothpaste off the toothbrushes, put the toilet paper back on the roll, and put eye patches with skull and cross bones on them back into the drawer.

So you can imagine my frustration when the Realtor stops by to say hello and check on things, and he says, “Is there a little bit of dust on those fan blades?”

Now I’d like to stick sharp objects in the Realtor’s eyes. Just as soon as I get done flushing toilets.