During a Weight Watchers meeting, our leader told the following story.

My mother was meticulous. There was never a hair out of place. Everything she touched was perfect.

When I was little, I can remember being at home with my mother. We had done all sorts of things around the house, but the house was in no way clean. As we got closer to the end of the day, she said, “I’m gonna teach you a trick. When it gets to the end of the day, I turn the drier on and vacuum the living room so that Daddy won’t ask me what I’ve been doing all day!” Clearly, she could only handle so much, but she found a way to create the illusion that she had everything under control.

When the holidays rolled around, we baked cookies that we'd decorate and give as gifts. We had sugar cookies on every horizontal surface of the kitchen. There were cookies as far as the eye could see. The sink was full of dishes. At the time, we had people staying with us, so there were nine of us in the kitchen. Kids were at the table doing homework; everyone was talking. And just when we thought it couldn’t get any more hectic, someone spilled glitter across the entire kitchen floor.

My mother put down her spatula. She smoothed her apron. We sat, silent, waiting for our punishment. Calmly, she looked around the room. With each second that passed, we grew more and more scared. Finally, she spoke.

“Kids? This is living!”