So I haven’t mentioned it, but my mama and D.’s mama are coming to our house for a visit next week.

Together.

And while I would love to be a fly on the wall (or windshield, as it were) for what I’m referring to as “The YeeHaw Mamaw Roadtrip,” my primary concern right now is that, at some point in the next couple of days, THE BEAST THAT IS MY HOUSE MUST BE TAMED.

First of all, there’s the matter of a lovely new addition to our foyer area:

Now if I were my mama, I would drape a chenille throw over the top of it and pretend like it wasn’t there, just like she did with what she perceived to be an eyesore in her den:

See? If you look very carefully to your left, you’ll notice that the throw has taken on a square-ish shape that is quite uncommon where throw-draping is concerned.

Unless, of course, the throw is draped over AN OLD METAL WALL HEATER, in which case the square-ish shape makes absolutely perfect sense.

But I digress.

Because my point is that my house is a wreck. Nothing’s where it should be, and I have to do some serious cleaning / straightening / washing between now and Tuesday. Oh yes ma’am I do.

It shouldn’t be difficult to get started, though, because my vacuum has been standing the middle of our dining room for the last two weeks.

Don’t believe me?

It’s just so much more convenient to keep it there instead of in the hall closet where there are, you know, DOORS.

I should also have a relatively easy time with the disinfecting process, because look where my Clorox Wipes are:

On the bar! Next to my earrings! In the living room! Right where they should be!

And then behind the bar is yet another convenient storage facility:

Because where else would you keep a fun noodle, a portable basketball goal, some Nerf balls, a water toy and a box of personalized notepads?

I mean, I don’t mean to brag, but I think it’s PRET-TY CLEAR that it’s a veritable bastion of organization around here, people. We like to keep our stuff OUT IN THE OPEN, so we can SEE IT REAL GOOD.

And then there’s the garage.

But I’m not even going to show y’all a picture of that.

Why, you ask?

Because I am deeply ashamed seeing as how the garage is still full of moving boxes.

Even though we moved in December.

And the moving boxes have stuff in them. Stuff we have not yet unpacked. In almost six months.

Oh, it’s going to be quite the funtacular around here this weekend.

But if push comes to shove? And we run out of time? I’ll just go buy a bunch of chenille throws and drape them over all the boxes.

I think Mama would be proud.

Oh, y’all. My discontent with the television knows no bounds right now.

Perhaps I should elaborate.

Problem: Melinda Doolittle was voted off of American Idol last night, despite the fact that she was the best of all the contestants and by far and away the most consistent performer week in and week out. Not to mention humble.

Action Taken: American Idol? You’re dead to me.

Problem: (SHANNON, DON’T READ THIS AS IT PERTAINS TO CRITICAL SEASON 6 PLOT INFORMATION) On “24,” former First Lady Martha Logan stabbed her ex-husband, Charles, with a paring knife shortly after she had used said paring knife to SLICE A KIWI, thus proving conclusively that “24” has exhausted its supply of weaponry and, might I add, plotlines.

Action Taken: I’ve given up on “24” this season. I will try it again next season. But if anyone dies in the first three episodes as a result of A MISUSED KITCHEN UTENSIL, I’m done.

Problem: HGTV has been overtaken by wacky new hosts who are all “BADABING” and “WOWZEE” and “SHUT UP THAT TABLE IS SO AWESOME I’M GOING TO STICK MY HEAD THROUGH IT AND THEN SAW THE LEGS OFF!”

Who are these people?

Because here’s a tip for HGTV, and they don’t even have to pay me for it: CHILDREN ARE LOUD. MAMAS DON’T NEED MORE LOUD IN THEIR LIVES.

We need soothing, quiet hosts and hostesses when we tune in for your fine HGTV programming, preferably people who don’t convey the feeling that they’re trying to sell us a used car.

Action Taken: Composing an email to HGTV that says the following:

Dear Sir or Madam,

Home decorating is not a game show.

As such, please tell your on-air personalities to quit screaming at us.

Thank you.

Also: I find that I’m switching over to the Food Network with increasing frequency. And just so you know? The new installment of “The Next Food Network Star”?

I’m all over it.

And the good news is that there’s actually even more sunshine on the other side of my TV cloud.

For example.

Not A Problem: The Wii. I know it’s not technically a TV program, but it does require a television in order to work, so I’ll take the TV victories where I can find them.

Reason: Wii, you complete me. Or I guess I should say: Wii, you complete mii. And I love you.

Or, you know, yuu.

Okay, all-you-internets-who-are-terribly-distressed-that-the-blog-is-out-of-whack.

Does everything look normal again?

I think I cropped the last round of pictures too big – it looks normal on my monitor, but some people seem to be having trouble, and since I LIVE TO SERVE OTHERS, I’m trying to fix the problem.

Also: everything looks fine on my end of the world. So I’m trying to fix a problem I can’t actually see, and that is loads of fun.

In other words: YOUR HAPPINESS IS IMPORTANT TO ME. :-)

Holla back in the comments.