Unexpected Guests

I’m a creature of habit. Having a routine is calming to me. When I wake up, there are things do before leaving the house. When I get back, I have a routine for switching out of Work mode and relaxing.

Unexpected- or shall I say uninvited- guests disrupt routine. When they are there, I can’t take my clothes off and kick it in my underwear until dinner time. When they are around, I have to stay On, be relentlessly polite and courteous. It’s the worst when there’s no food or snacks in the house, and all I’m thinking is, Oh no, no snacks to offer, I’m a horrible hostess.

All that depends on how close I am to the guests though. My friends know that they might find me in less-than-respectable clothes and fuzzy slippers, watching TV. My friends know that they can come right in, take off their shoes and go inspect the fridge for a drink. They know that any baked goods offered will be tasty, even though they might be misshapen or imperfect.

My friends know I’m misshapen and imperfect, and they’ll love me anyway, so they’ll always be welcome in my home.

In response to the Daily Post Prompt: Unexpected Guests


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