I came home late tonight from a meeting at the boys’ school and everyone in the house was asleep except for Natalie, who was wandering around the house by herself.  (No comment.)  I gave her her medicine and tucked her in, jumped online to renew some library books and shoot off a few overdue emails, switched over a load of laundry, and went back upstairs to see if there was any dinner left.  I stared at the pile of dishes in and around my sink.  I groaned. This is the conversation that happened in my head:

I should probably clean these dishes.

(Rolling eyes.)  I’m too tired.

But if I don’t do it, I’ll start out the day with things already undone.

I put away all the perishable food; that’s good enough.

It still looks like a mess though, and it will only get worse tomorrow when the kids get up.  Look how quickly everything went downhill just today.

Sigh.  I KNOW, but I really just don’t want to.  Oh good, Matt cleared the table.

Man, I’ve got to get on top of this stuff.  How can I have the Spirit in the home if I can’t keep it clean?

Let it go.  You don’t need the Spirit in the kitchen sink.

So I decided to write a blog post and go to bed instead.

(Despite the color coding, I’m still not absolutely sure which one was the angel and which was the devil.  It’s debatable.)