A Neat Perspective

I love to read the newspaper.  There is something about that ungainly wad of papers that makes me feel like I’m part of the stories.  Often my husband gabs the paper on his way to work and returns with only the Variety section.  He knows my day is happier when I read my favorite cartoon strips, reflect upon my horoscope, and evaluate the advice given by the advice experts.  My husband does those things too, but he also works the Sudoku puzzle while pretending to listen to me prattle on about my day.

Somewhere in the midst of today’s paper I saw a statement that resonated.  It said something to the effect that most of the best things in life are messy.  As a women with housecleaning demons, I had to think about that a moment.  Really?  Good = messy?  That’s sure not what was hammered into me as I was growing up.  I allowed my mind to wander a bit and sure enough, I had to agree.

Off the top of my head—as in about 60 seconds—I came up with the following messy delights:

• Ice cream
• Babies…any and all aspects
• Sex
• Fried bacon, chicken, donuts…oh heck, anything fried.
• Kisses in a convertible
• Sex
• Feeding a pet
• Putting BB’s into a BB gun
• Any endeavor that involves creating art
• Potting a plant
• Licking out a bowl of frosting
• Brushing a husky in the springtime
• Eating a rack of ribs
• Using a sugar scrub in the bath or shower
• Pretty  much anything my husband does with gusto
• Sex

Obviously I’m either hungry or horny or both, but life’s good stuff often is messy.  I wonder why that is?  Does it teach us patience and responsibility as we clean up after our good times?  Does it promote tolerance when we leave the mess as part of our creative nature even though our partners feel less mess-inclined?  (This is simply a hypothetical question.  No names mentioned.  Ahem.)

Even as I sat reading the newspaper I realized that, too, was a messy pleasure.  The various sections were spread across the table like readable origami.  What do you think?  Can you add to the list of messy pleasures?  Why do you think messes and joy go hand in hand?  I’d love to hear from you.  I know the laptop is under the mess somewhere.