because I now have a cleaning service at my house.
The last time a had regular cleaning help was during my pregnancy with Mary. I broke my foot and had surgery to pin the bone fragments together. Because my pregnant body found crutches just a wee bit unwieldy (I’m pretty clutzy even on my best days) I bought volleyball knee pads and literally crawled around the house. My cleaning lady was the sweetest lady. She didn’t complain about the 5 boy chaos and had plenty of sympathy for my pathetic situation. Loved her. Am still so grateful for her.
But one morning I was crawling past the bathroom and saw her cleaning the INSIDE of the toilet with the kitchen rags. I watched in mute horror as she took the sopping wet rags and tossed them on the kitchen counter.
“Um, um,” I timidly spoke up, “we have a toilet brush you can use.”
“Oh no,” she replied, “those brushes don’t get the bowl clean enough.”
So, I swore to never eat off my kitchen counter again and told her shortly thereafter that we were short on money and Erik and the boys REALLY WANTED to do the cleaning.
In my ongoing quest to secure the love of my future-daughters-in-law I’ve trained all the boys (well, not Gabe) to clean. We have a lovely little rotation chart that everyone supposedly follows. And the result? Well, don’t look too closely at my bathrooms, OK?
But I’ve now hired the most fabulissimo cleaning service that gets my house shiny clean every two weeks. Someone I can boss around and ask, “Is that microwave really clean?” “Don’t those shelves look a bit dusty?”
Yep, good old Benny-boy. He needed a flexible job, I needed sparkling toilets. It’s a great deal.
What I didn’t anticipate was my oldest son turning into a slave-driver. The night before cleaning day he patrols the house barking, “Put away your laundry, pick up those toys. Get your room ready for vacuuming and dusting.” YES SIR! Right away sir.
And he catches me just as I’m sitting down to read YOUR blog or eat a spoonful of peanut butter. “You want your bathroom clean, Mom? Go pick up your junk!”
See that look? He’s saying, “Stop taking photos and go clean your room!”
Sigh. But he does do excellent work (note he’s moved the furniture and rolled up the rug to sweep and mop the floor) and it’s extremely gratifying for me to hear him say, “Why is this kitchen such a mess?! I just cleaned it two hours ago!”
Welcome to my world, buddy. Welcome to my world.