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The Spokesman-Review Newspaper
Spokane, Washington  Est. May 19, 1883

Three Days Can Seem Like A Lifetime Anti-Guests They Violate The Sanctuary Of The Home, Wreck A Routine

Ask your co-workers or buddies if they have a house-guest horror story. You’ll be amazed.

Here are a few we’ve collected recently: There was the sister who came for a three-day visit and stayed two years. The boys with dirt-caked hands who traced them on freshly painted white walls. The honeymooning couple who fought all night. The mother-in-law who talked only about superficial things; the weather was a favorite topic.

The daughter-in-law reported: “We could have been sitting at the kitchen table, and if my hair had caught on fire, she would have said, ‘Oh, what a nice sunny day!”’

Summer is winding down, and so the time seems right to face the truth about house guests. They can wreck a summer. Wreck a marriage. Wreck a routine.

This is not a new concept. Titus Maccius Plautus lived from 254 to 184 B.C. He wrote: “No guest is so welcome in a friend’s house that he will not become a nuisance after three days.” Benjamin Franklin said the same thing - twice. In 1733, he wrote: “After three days, men grow weary of a wench, a guest and weather rainy.” Two years later, he repeated the sentiment, but more succinctly. “Fish and visitors smell in three days.”

Three days? That’s a lifetime now that, in most houses, both parents work, children have schedules that rival those of corporate executives and the world outside home is a noisy, busy, competitive place. Home often is the only sanctuary where you can recharge to face the chaos of modern life.

House guests violate this sanctuary, no matter how well-mannered, well-meaning, well-loved. You have to smile in the morning, share bathrooms and newspapers. Worry about the house being clean. Worry about snoring, arguing, food preferences. Are the guests too hot? Too cold? Are they having fun?

Twenty-four hours seems about right. Any more time can spoil friendships and strain family relationships.

Even Ann Landers acknowledges this. A couple recently wrote feeling guilty because they finally had told their relentless stream of family guests: “We can no longer accommodate you. We will make hotel reservations.” Ann congratulated them. She said: “Self-preservation is the first law of survival.”

Amen, Ann. You’re welcome here any time. At least for 24 hours.

, DataTimes MEMO: For opposing view, see headline: Fond memories will last a lifetime

For opposing view, see headline: Fond memories will last a lifetime