Yesterday I went into the kitchen, and tripped over our son's toys and plates that he'd pulled out of the cupboard. I said a couple of swear words, cleared things up and went out to the loungeroom. It was covered in musical instruments, mostly guitars, sound gear, music stands and music that I had left everywhere. We're not really that dissimilar.
Reminds me of that great line from Men Behaving Badly (the English version) when Dorothy and Gary are having a baby, and Dorothy laments about now having two flatulent little bastards with a breast fixation.