Emily and Beargrrl were discussing the changable state of our kitchen a couple of days ago, and the fact that it never has any spoons! So being mad devotees of spoon theory, we came to the conclusion that our kitchen is non-neurotypical, and subject to its own special brand of entropy.
Cackling over hyperbole and a half tonight I realised that this is because our kitchen is inhabited by EIGHT humyns (and two cats) who will never be grown ups. Therefore we constantly vacillate between cleaning all of the things, resting on our laurels, being convinced that it is someone else's turn to clean all the things, and being completely overwhelmed. But ohhhh the sense of accomplishment when all of the things are clean and it has shiny (and a drawer full of spoons)... :D
