Everything In Its Place

I've heard that expression before, but like "sleep tight" and "you gonna eat that," I'm not entirely sure what it means. But it came to mind the other day while I was in the kitchen, pondering what to do with a short stack of new (but previously owned) dishes we bought for a party. They were sitting on the counter, homeless and with few options of where to store them.

Normally, this is a job for the wife -- not because I'm sexist or misogynistic, but rarely am I granted the autonomy of deciding where to place a new object in our home unless it's something I specifically own. I apparently don't possess some sort of innate ability to discern the proper feng shui of inanimate objects on the common spaces and walls of the house. 

The disapproval and disagreements even involve drawers -- junk drawers. Every house has one or three of these long, overstuffed repositories of worthless batteries, 15 Allen wrenches that came with different products requiring some self-assembly, and stacks of stained take-out menus from the local eateries. My so-called junk drawer has maybe two menus in it -- and I have to be vigilant lest they end up in the recycling bin. 

Back to the party plates: I hesitated and fretted, wondering whether to simply call this one in to the proper authories. But, suddently feeling rebellious, I rearranged a few items on one shelf of mismatched cups, China and sake bottles, and slipped the plates in. Later, I casually mentioned where I had placed the plates to my significant other. She agreed that's where she had planned to put them as well. Job well done on my part, though already I could tell there was some concern that they were not quite in their proper place.

Wherever that is.