Judge NOT, except of course I do.

I'm a pretty judgmental person.

What? I know! I thought I hid it pretty well.

I tend not to judge a person on how they look, because that's pretty much beyond one's control. I also don't judge people who don't know something, but are willing to learn.

I DO judge people who are mean spirited, evil bastards; racists and bigots; and misogynists and classists.

And I really judge people about how clean their homes are.

I KNOW. That's fucking terrible. I KNOW.

But I can't help it. I mean, I'm working on it. It's just how I was raised and how I continue to be engaged in my family. The cleanliness of a person's home is a direct correlation to what a fucking scumbag the woman is [the man is absolved of any responsibility, even if he does, like the husband, do at least 50% of the housework].

So I try to keep a clean house. Because if I'm going to throw that first stone, my glass house should be fucking spotless.

However, there are a couple of things I've noticed about myself that I can't believe I let slide. One is the cobwebs between the front storm door and door.

The second is the fact that since August, my kid's braces have been sitting in an envelope on the counter ledge in my kitchen.

When I think about that one, I get a little queasy, because if that happened at anyone else's house I would be VOMITING ALL OVER THE PLACE.

Here? I not only have those things that spent 18 months in a teenager's mouth next to the place where I chop and plate food that we not only eat, but that I have served other people, I HAVE THEM WEDGED IN BETWEEN THE SALT AND PEPPER SHAKERS. LIKE A FUCKING BOOKMARK.

So, if I have ever wronged you, here you go.  Judge me. I am disgusting.