Brad gets so frustrated with me when I leave suitcases open. He loves to shut them. He loves to pack them neat and tidy and in order. Then he loves to make sure they are packed in the car in the right order. Not me, as long as I know the vicinity in which I threw it, I can dig for it when I get where I’m going. Don’t get me wrong. I’m not a slob, I’m actually pretty organized, my house is pretty tidy, and my closets and drawers are beyond organized. I can give Brad the location of the little slip of paper that he wrote cattle weights on, where the mate to his sock is located and any email or telephone contact he might need.
A lot of times I get into trouble for leaving things open. Like last week when it would have been so simple to shut the lid on my good lotion. No, I left it open and one of my grandkids knocked it over spilling the contents all over the floor.
Sometimes I don’t shut my mouth either and I get into trouble when things spill out that I wished hadn’t.
Like his suit case shutting and car packing, Brad is also good at keeping his mouth shut. He’s contemplative and organizes his thoughts just like he packs the car. Before opening his mouth you can bet the words that come out have been carefully selected. Like my suitcases, my purse, my toothpaste and perfume bottles I have good intentions on shutting them. But it never fails, just like my mouth I just can’t seem to keep them closed, shut or latched. Maybe it’s just a guy/girl thing. Whatever causes it I continually work to overcome it.