Those little piles, the ones that disappear with a quick motor movement of the Peter's hand, well, when Peter brings home his evil twin brother "Pedro", that disappearing act takes on a new look. Oh, those little piles, they disappear alright, but not into a drawer or the garbage, no soon you may find them deep underneath the "rock collection".
For some odd reason, when Peter comes home for a night, that would be a stay of less than 24 hours, he has this need to pack his green duffel bag and book bag to more than capacity, bulging at the seams, ready to explode. Begging, asking, pleading, to please do not pack your bags as I have clothes for you, just does not deter him from what I call packing and bringing his rock collection. When I pick up Peter and while he bounds out of his house and into my car, I am the one left struggling, barely able to lift the duffel and the book bag, muttering about his need to bring home his all his earthly belongings for the duration of one night, as I am dragging these bags to the car. Knowing that these coveted items will only be quickly disperse throughout the first floor, I slowly lift and than plunge these two bags in the back seat, convinced I will soon need back surgery or at least bed rest. Wearily, I climb into the driver seat and we start our little weekend adventure. This adventure includes several stops, the grocery store, the hardware store, the drug store. Of course, this is done to ensure that I will have even more bags to carry into the house allowing more time for Pedro to do his things.
Finishing the errands, we arrive in the garage and Peter jumps from the car, and now of course is fully capable of carrying his rock collection inside. I, burying my body into the back seat of the car I grab as many bags as humanly possible as I know what is now occurring on my island, on top of my table, and across the family room floor. You see, that is when Pedro arrives,the evil twin brother is not into picking or cleaning, his job is to unload, unload all those items within less than 60 seconds and make sure that they are distributed evenly throughout the first floor. Within these seconds, the contents are strewn, five t-shirts, two pairs of pants, pair of socks, sandals...did I say sandals in January, an extra pair of shoes, one sweatshirt and one pair of pajamas have now found their new home on the family room floor. But that is only the beginning, as that book bag, that bulging book bag, the one ready to explode is begging Pedro to empty it's coffers and so, five or six coloring books, a box of puzzles, two large quart sized bags, of markers, a football, a teddy bear, several various awards gathered over the years, a harmonica, a sheriffs badge and not one, but two pairs of handcuffs, how those handcuffs keep multiplying remains a mystery. And all of this occurs before I have placed one foot inside the door. Upon my arrival, I see the Pedro's artwork, the piles, the belongings scattered throughout the first floor.Long ago, I gave the idea of putting these coveted belongings in one place and came to the realization that I would just learn to adjust, to walk around, to incorporate the items that are now piled high on my island and table top. There is this inner peace for Peter following the scattering event. If disrupted, I know Pedro will be visitng again soon. And those little piles, long gone and lost among the handcuffs and crayons, I do hope to be found when Pedro leaves. My kitchen that once appeared somewhat organized, lies in disarray. To be honest, if a burglar happened on the scene, he or she would leave convinced the house had already been hit.
So the night is spent with now large piles covering those underneath. Peter sends Pedro off, his job is done. Life is good, Peter has moved onto his computer, Pedro is gone, and I am thinking a glass of wine while I nest amongst the clothes and cuffs.
