Do you have a house cleaning service? Or are you the service, like me? With arms folded in front of me, peering through eye slits, I’ve looked on with jealousy at families who have them. There’s a stay-at-home lady across the street that has one and she’s forty-one with a twenty-five year old body. She runs every day. If I had a cleaning service and spent my days leisurely caring for me, I’d look hot, too. But I'd never run. She cuts the grass with a walk-behind mower for fun and cooks up delicious, home style Lean Cuisines for her grown sons and husband.
When I was a lot younger I could clean my entire house in a day. Then, when our homes got larger and I became older and busier, the house got cleaned on weekend mornings whether it needed cleaning or not.
Now my house gets cleaned when I hear my tennis shoes sticking to the floor, when I wonder who sneezed with a mouthful of orange juice… No more regular cleaning schedule at my house, let me tell you.
I want to come home from work and have my dinner cooked and my laundry washed and put away, just once. Or I want to retire from working outside the home, make good meals that don’t taste too healthy, and have the laundry finished before noon.
Does anyone routinely use glass cleaner on the underside of a glass top table?
How about removing those small dust pillows made of animal hair from the bottoms of the kitchen chair legs? I tend to ignore them.
The dog snot accumulates on doors and windows until the dogs can’t see through them. Well, it really doesn’t get that bad but I marvel at it long enough…
Do you move small pieces of furniture every time you vacuum? Not me… I don’t even vacuum behind the bedroom doors that often.
If you allow your pets to sleep in bed with you, what about the bed of animal hair that covers the carpet under the bed, against the wall, near the headboard? It’s so incredibly hard to reach.
Do you regularly check for dirt and dust that collects on top of the refrigerator? I usually give it a year before I look.
Cramming a week of errands and house cleaning into a 48-hour window is getting old, man.
Get my drift? I’m sickofitsickofitsickofit,
because, gentle friends, I’d much rather spend more time blogging and playing with a Great White Egret.
So, you want to hide from me?
I can still see you. Be careful in there.
You are so elegant, so white, so pretty,
and you have a marvelous profile, too.
I didn't mean to scare you.
Stay away from the gazebo. There was this ghost...