Don't look under the couch: and other things I feel like I need to tell my guests

By Jennifer Heilbron

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If over-explaining was a sport, I’d be an Olympic Gold Medalist. When I’m asked a simple question, such as “How was your day?” or “Jenny, where did you get your jeans?,” you need to be prepared for a 20 minute dissertation that you never asked for. “My jeans… well they’re from AGOLDE, but…” That’s your cue to pull up a chair, “I bought them two years ago after I couldn’t find my other favorite pair of jeans that I bought in 2016 on a work trip to New York and was late to my meeting because there was this massive sale and then I couldn’t find the subway…” 

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While I’d love to chalk up my overly detailed storytelling as a characteristic of being an overly detail-oriented Virgo, I’m also pretty sure the journey-like storytelling has to do with my late in life diagnosis of ADHD. (Did I mention, over-explaining and over-sharing go hand in hand). Some people might say my candidness and “colorful” conversations are charming and what makes people want to get to know me. You’re welcome. But as I get older, I realize my over-explaining is creeping into areas that don’t need an explanation or a callout AT ALL.

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Recently, I have found this habit getting particularly bad when I entertain. As lovely as I feel like my home is, whenever we invite people over, I find myself focusing on every imperfection and assuming that my guests will notice it too. Right before I’m going to host something, I get so anxious as if someone will walk into my kitchen, look under the fridge and go, “Yup. I knew she had a grape under there.”

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Without fail, instead of waiting for someone to notice said grape (or ANYTHING else amiss for that matter), I begin to rattle lists of potential eyesores throughout the house that no one else actually sees— just to make sure my guests know *I know* it’s a problem:

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See that cabinet next to the microwave, it’s about 2mm off the hinge and the knob is not level.

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The grout around the toilet is definitely not as white as it should be.

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The painter missed a spot on that sliding glass door.

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Beware of the powder room, my boys don’t lift the seat. (Okay, that actually warrants a heads up).

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The table is faux marble, and since we’re on the subject, the olive tree isn’t real either.

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By the way, the previous owner chose the tile.

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Designer? Oh, I’m flattered but no, my bed frame was on the clearance rack at Home Goods.

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There’s a tiny tear on the seam if you look real close.

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Don’t look under the couch! I think there’s an old chew toy my dog hid there, plus every fork that has gone missing.

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No but seriously, where the f*** have all our forks gone?!

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My point is that in general, most women over-apologize for just about everything compared to our male counterparts, and it’s something that I’m well aware of (and a habit I’m trying to curb). But the over-explaining and preemptively sharing the most minute and irrelevant glitches is something I’m on a mission to quell. Sure, we are months into the New Year, but some resolutions take time… in my case, decades.

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In just a few hours, I will have friends and their kids over for Sunday brunch… some bagels, shmear, and mimosas for the mamas (or as what I refer to as “payback for all the other times my girlfriends have invited me and my maniacs over”).  My mission is to not criticize my home in any way, rather just lean into the imperfections - after all, anything too perfect would make a guest feel uncomfortable, wouldn’t it? 

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That said, I don’t think airing my dirty laundry,  like ACTUALLY leaving the dirty laundry strewn on the floor or saying that I “will fold it later,” is a great representation of myself or my home. I would like to, at the very least, pretend that I don’t live in a frat house with 4 males – actually 5, if you include my dog. Therefore, I’ve come up with a few quick ways to hide the chaos and list of home improvements that run like a news ticker in my head.

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1. Throw it in a hamper

Don’t have time to finish folding the clothes? Kids leave random things from school out in the kitchen and you don’t have time to put it where it actually needs to live (aka eventually toss it)? Go through your house and throw all the “get to it later” stuff in a big hamper. Put it in your laundry room or deep in your closet and get to it tomorrow…or never.

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2. Flowers and a candle

There is nothing that makes me feel like my house is ready for guests more than some fresh flowers. Doesn’t have to be a huge bouquet. Even some leaves and branches pulled from a tree and put in a small vase on your kitchen counter will feel intentional. Grab some lemons and throw in a bowl on your counter to look a little more polished.

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3. Make the pantry accessible

‍With 3 boys and friends with multiple children, our kitchen sees some high traffic, with kids coming and going to the pantry. Typically my pantry is a hot mess of crackers, dried fruit, half eaten bars. But before we have people over, I try to give it a once-over, and use the acrylic containers that my Instagram algorithm sold me, so that the grab-and-go situation is manageable and the kids aren’t just eating the Halloween candy that my husband forgets to hide (nightly).

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4. Hand towels and clean sinks

We have one powder room downstairs that typically is where the kids brush their teeth before school. But on “party” days, I put the dental stuff away so that the sink is clean and I make sure we have both paper napkins (I purchased ones with our monogram from Etsy) as well as a clean hand towel. I also make sure there is a candle lit so that the bathroom stays fresh throughout the event.

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I want my home to reflect how “chill” and welcoming I am. (But as my husband likes to point out, nothing is ever “chill” when I’m entertaining). BUT CHANGE CAN HAPPEN, and I am determined to open my doors to guests with nothing but love for my small but safe, cozy and joyous home. After all, some of my greatest memories have occurred within these walls… and it’s my hope to make sure that energy is carried out with all who come in.

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With that, I have guests coming in 3 hours. Does anyone have a power washer I can borrow?

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My driveway is DIRTY… and cracked.

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Jennifer Brandt Heilbron is a Los Angeles-based writer, comedian, and "that mom" that screams too loudly at the baseball field. Jennifer lives in a frat house with her husband, three sons, and her (also) male labradoodle Willie.