Mother Sheena is a neat gal. She stacks up mail, puts her keys in the same place and wouldn't dream of leaving her shoes in the lounge.
However, she shared a little gem with me today. I learnt the secret to her seemingly calm attitude when her house is ransacked by multiple just-past-teens. My house has been abuzz with the noise of happy people, the couches have been moved. There are magazines spread out over the coffee table and I have at least three pairs of shoes within a two meter radius of the kitchen table.
But it's better this way. It's been so empty for the poor parentals. Tickled smiles appear on both faces when my sisters laughter turns to pure high pitched sound with the occasional gasp for breath. They don't seem to mind the mess or the noise because they understand that people are more important than places. It's better this way. A noisy, messy house is best.