If you decide to swing by my place without prior notice, brace yourself for a surprising experience—one that might even leave you feeling a bit bewildered. I’m the proud parent of a lively three-and-a-half-year-old, a six-month-old baby, and a hefty 75-pound black lab named Max. I should mention my partner, Mike, but he’s typically not the source of shock or disgust, so we’ll leave him out of this narrative.
When you ring the doorbell, chances are you’ll encounter me first. Picture me in a pair of leggings and an oversized sweatshirt—possibly adorned with baby spit. My hair will be hastily pulled into a top knot, and I won’t be wearing any makeup. I’ll likely be balancing the baby in one arm while keeping Max at bay with the other. I’ll motion for you to come in, hollering “Come on in!” over the din of Max’s enthusiastic barking.
As you step inside, I’ll probably have to make a split-second decision: drop the baby or let go of the dog. Spoiler alert—I always opt to free my hands, allowing the dog to bound toward you. Despite my best efforts to command him to behave, he’ll continue to leap all over you, utterly indifferent to my calls.
If you’re not fond of dogs, a word of caution: visiting my home might not be the best choice for you. At this point, I’ll find a somewhat secure spot to lay the baby down, grab Max by the collar, and drag him outside, where he’ll likely bark for the next twenty minutes.
Once Max is outside, I’ll turn back to you, apologizing for his exuberant antics as I invite you to sit in the living room. Just a friendly reminder: please don’t accidentally sit on the baby I just placed on the loveseat.
As I settle down, I’ll pick up the baby, only to have him spit up on me due to his acid reflux. I’ll attempt to wipe it off with my sleeve while I sit down, apologizing for the state of my home. You’ll probably agree that it’s a bit chaotic, but you’ll smile and assure me that your place is just as messy. I appreciate your kindness, though I can’t help but wonder if your home is actually spotless, devoid of small children. If that’s the case—welcome to the wild side!
You’ll find toys scattered across the living room, socks and shoes strewn about, a half-folded laundry pile on the coffee table, and a play mat with a blanket on the floor for the baby. Oh, and let’s not forget the fine layer of black dog hair covering everything. During your visit, you might even spot my treasured robot vacuum making its rounds, although it often doubles as a makeshift shelf for random items.
Around this time, my three-year-old will probably burst into the room, likely either naked or barely clothed. We’re still in the process of potty training, and letting him roam free is our foolproof strategy to encourage him to use the toilet. I’ll likely forget that this isn’t typical behavior for a child his age and engage in conversation with you as if everything is perfectly normal.
I’ll offer you a drink, but let you know our options are limited to tap water, whole milk, expired coffee creamer, cheap beer, and a rather inexpensive bottle of wine. If you happen to be the delivery driver, you might shoot me a puzzled look while you sign your receipt and make a hasty exit—just watch your step around the vacuum!
If you’re a friend or family member, you’ll be unfazed by the chaos, comfortably helping yourself to my cheap wine. However, if you’re a stranger trying to sell something, you might be perplexed by my offer of wine and a seat. If you expect me to purchase your wares, you’ll need to endure my partially-clad child belting out “Jingle Bells” while standing atop the coffee table.
Looking back, the twenty-five-year-old me would have been utterly astonished to see where life has taken me, but here I am—living the dream, albeit not the one I envisioned at that age. So, if you ever feel inclined to drop by, please do! I’m writing this to prepare you for the delightful chaos you’re about to enter. And yes, I’ll have a bottle of cheap wine ready for you!
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Summary
Expect a delightful whirlwind of chaos, spilt baby food, and an overly excited dog when you visit my home unexpectedly. Whether you’re a friend, family member, or brave stranger, you’ll be greeted with warmth—and maybe a glass of cheap wine. Just come prepared for the delightful mess that is my life!
Keyphrase: home visit chaos
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