An Elf Named Herman

Let me openly confess to having the housekeeping skills of a tree stump. After 72 years of life, I have finally accepted the fact that an invisible elf, poltergeist, gnome, hobgoblin, you pick, is responsible for this.

I’ll show you. When I fall asleep at the end of the day one might see peaceful smile on my sleeping face because I know my kitchen counters are all hunky-dory, clean as a whistle. At least that’s what the elf I’ve named Herman lets me believe.

Can you guess what happens next? I’ll spare you the effort. As soon as I fall into a deep sleep, Herman is up and about. A whirling-dervish if ever there was one, he covers my countertops with all kinds of things: paper towels, tea bags, oatmeal container, vitamins, hand towels, a half-full coffee mug!

I have come to accept Herman’s presence. Reality has its own humor and its own magic. Herman is proof.