A Place for Everything, and Everything in it's Place

Yeah right, for THAT title! I look around my house and think about that saying, remembering my 85 year old Great Grandfather quoting it to me quite often. He was such a cleaner, seriously, at 80ish (born in 1898) he was the most organized man I knew. He was so full of spunk that he could organize & clean-up for hours, and then still head out and mow the lawn. I miss Gramps. My oldest daughter Dallas, who's almost 24 now, was only about 20 days old when he died. Sometimes I wonder if he waited for my Dad and I to get there before he passed on. It was a four hour drive and then an hour and a half on the ferry before we could see him. We were told that he probably wouldn't know us and that he was in very bad shape. But I remember walking into the hospital room, his eyes lit up and he was so excited to see us. He had moved to Vancouver Island from our hometown not too long before he died so it had been awhile since we had seen each other. My Mom placed Dallas, such a tiny thing way back when, into his arms alongside the hospital bed and, although he had never seen her before, he just knew who she was. But I digress.... this still doesn't help with my lack of organizing skills. I guess some people are just born to organize, and some are not, I was not. Yup the gene pool missed me on that one, it hit my sister, and sadly missed me.
So I look into my son's eyes and wonder if he was hit with the organizing gene... maybe it takes awhile before it comes out, yeah that's it... and that's why it took me three hours to clean his room!