My house is
too dirty to be cleaned.
It was a
thought that was simultaneously horrifying and liberating.
The bathroom
was an embarrassment. Layers of grime
coated all surfaces, much like the bathroom in a trendy nightclub, or abandoned
gas station. I wondered if I could get
someone else to clean the bathroom instead of me, someone like The Husband, or
the six-year-old, or perhaps the cat.
Speaking of
cat, her litter box was ready to revolt as well.
I shook my
head and walked out, without even bothering to brush my teeth (which is why I
had gone in the bathroom in the first place).
Looks like I was going to have my own Death Breath Super Power
today.
I walked
into the kitchen, which was no better.
The tile floor, for example, looked like it might not have been cleaned
this week, or ever. The stove was
covered in so many grease marks that I started to wonder if The Husband had
secretly replaced our white stove with a Dalmatian model. At least the sink was clean, I hoped, but I
could not really tell for sure since the teetering stack of dirty dishes was
blocking my view.
The living
room appeared as it had been hit by an angry tornado of school papers. There were PTA fliers, old homework, field
trip permission forms, and basketball sign-up sheets (from two seasons
ago). These cozied up to newspaper
articles that The Husband “might want to reread, so don’t throw those away,”
random Lego pieces, and old candy wrappers that Short was “definitely going to
use for something, I’m not sure what, but I need to keep them.”
I did what I
always did when confronted with a great amount of work: complained to The Husband about it.
After
listening to my diatribe, he nodded and said, “Why don’t you just call a
cleaning lady? We have had one a few
times before. We can afford it.”
It was not a
matter of money, did he not see that? I
shook my head sadly and said,
“I can’t
hire a cleaning lady. Our house is too
dirty. I would be embarrassed.”
“MOV, come
on! I’m sure she has seen a lot worse
than our house. Just make the
call.”
In the end,
my pride got the better of me, and I cleaned the house myself. I used the money I saved to invest in some
extra equipment that will help me the next time such a crisis arises: wine.
MOV
Oh sister, I feel your pain. I can only afford a cleaning lady OR a dog walker. I opted for the dog walker because it seems right that while I'm paying someone to walk my dog, I should take that time to vacuum my fur filled house. It's a vortex of logic that collapses in on itself.
ReplyDeleteI recently bought a steam mop from the shopping channel and it makes a difference.
This is what passes for excitement in my life.
Kill me now.
You can afford a house cleaner and you don't have one?????????? Hellllooooooooo - send one my way, will ya??? Geez, Louise... I had to break down and do some housecleaning of my own this morning because it looked like the next episode of Hoarders.
ReplyDeleteI have been there...I totally relate. For years I had a cleaning lady and always straightened up before she came. Then I had this epiphany that I really do enjoy cleaning. Sick but true. I like to clean. If I weren't in the middle and you weren't in the east, I would beg you to let me come over to clean. For free...for fun.
ReplyDeleteIf you don't like to clean...I would go with the "she has probably (most definitely) seen worse and call someone.
You've been peeking in my windows again, haven't you? I dearly wish we could afford some cleaning help. Sadly, no. My problem isn't really lack of motivation to clean, it's having the time to do so. I can't seem to catch a break around here.
ReplyDeleteHaha, everything goes better with wine! Just call her - you'll be glad. It was the first thing I spent money on after I got married. Otherwise, I might not be married....
ReplyDeleteMy new sister-in-law (who did not know how to clean) got behind and hired a company where you got a crew. They told her it was worst house they had ever seen and they would never come back. So every once in a while they really have not seen worse.
ReplyDeleteShe was so clueless she told me the story and of course I nodded sympathetically while sipping my wine.
LOL this problem seems to be really common actually. Most of the families I know have a "cleaning day" right before their cleaning people come over. >.<
ReplyDeleteGotta split a job like that into several parts for damage control! One room at a time, one glass of wine per room. Maybe two.
ReplyDeleteHere's a business idea. A cleaning service that specializes in cleaning your house just enough to be presentable for the regular cleaning people. It wouldn't be too expensive because they wouldn't be doing a serious cleaning and you wouldn't have to be embarrassed about letting them see your dirty place because that's what they're specializing in. Similar to how it's not embarrassing having a doctor see you naked.
ReplyDeleteIf the bathroom is too gross for you to brush your teeth, then it's much easier to decide to use your toothbrush as an instrument of death against the dirt. I always save my used up toothbrushes to get in crevices. Good thing I only wear out a toothbrush about once a year so I don't have to clean more often.
ReplyDeleteLove,
Janie
As a cleaning lady, can I let you in on a not so secret piece of information? Yes, ok, great...I hate cleaning a clean house. I want to walk in and see a challenge and "fix" it. I want it to be obvious where I have vacuumed and where I haven't. I don't want to wonder if I swept over there yet. I want to feel like I did something. I have openings on Mondays...
ReplyDeleteEnough wine and you can be anything you want - way to clean house, Zinferella!
ReplyDeleteOK, here's the thing: I have a cleaning fetish that, while my wife loves it, leaves me feeling a little weird about HOW MUCH I love it too. Been like this since I was a kid, having to clean up after my dad and brother, Mom being divorced from the picture many moons before. Read this and tel me I'm not a freak of nature... or something.
ReplyDeletehttp://gortnation.blogspot.com/2010/12/hi-my-name-is-bob-and-im-cleaner.html
Sorry, Virgs. I'm not buying a word of it. You ain't seen a real mess until you've stopped by on a Saturday morning. Andrea would LOVE the wreck that is my abode. Yours? No challenge whatsoever.
ReplyDelete