My grandma Mae had a couple of plates
hanging on the wall in her kitchen. One of them read, “Come in,
sit down, relax, converse . . .” and the other one read, “my
house doesn't always look like this, sometimes it's even worse.” I
need a sign in my house like that right about now. Given that my
dad, mom, and grandpa will be here in four days time I am doing the
frantic cleaning spasms of a madwoman. I threw the kids outside
(it's a nice day) and promptly sat down to write, because I've been
getting flack for not doing so. It's all in good humour.
It never fails that when I am doing
laundry, I manage to smash my head on the cupboard door. Every. Single. Time!
Why, oh, why, do I do this? I know that I'm the one opening the
cupboard to get the soap out. I watch my very own hands open the
cupboard. That voice in my head, it says, “be careful, cupboard's
open.” And then, WHAM! Connected. And it really hurts. Every.
Single. Time!
I clean the toilets pant-less. Don't
go visual on this one, it's so not a great sight! Bleach, gets me
every time, too! I have ruined four or five pairs of pants scrubbing
the toilets. I decided it would be best if just took my pants off
when it came time for the toilet business. My husband just shakes
his head. Especially when it's been a couple of hours and I've
forgotten to put them back on. I worry that at some point I am going to be found unconscious and pant-less on the laundry room floor bleeding from a head wound.
I am also maniacal when it comes to the
kitchen. My dad has to, at this point, carry an epi-pen. His
allergies to nuts and molds are so bad that the next go round could
very well land him in hospital. So every surface has to be
immaculate. Any and all nut products are confined to their own space
and I make sure several days in advance that there will be no
possibility of cross contamination of food products. He tells me not
to worry about him, he'll look after himself (that just means he
won't eat anything). Having already triggered a reaction for him in
his own home using cheese that was open for more than two days, I'd
rather just do the cleaning and know that I've taken all the
necessary precautions. I also figure that, because he's coming here
to put up shelves in our garage, the least I can do is not kill him.
So between the house cleaning, laundry,
and garage cleaning that needs to get done, I am feeling a wee little
bit overwhelmed. It'll get done. I'm not worried that it won't.
Martha Stewart I am not, with some lovely platitude about how
wonderful it is to clean. I just really like the end result. I wish
I could just wiggle my nose, or wave a wand, or click my heels.
Nope, didn't work.
Thanks Ella, for the lovely dandelion
just deposited on my desk. I am grateful that I can clean my house
and enjoy it when it's done. And now, it's time to get down to
business. Toilets here I come, give me a few hours before you come
knocking on my door.
No comments:
Post a Comment