Cleaning

It is true that for most of my adult life, I have had someone clean my house. Single, divorced, married ... it didn't matter. As long as I could afford it, I did it. Truthfully, I did it even when I really couldn't afford it but I was spoiled. (In my defense, I still did some cleaning!) Anyway, the whole cleaning thing changed about a year ago.

While living with my oldies, I try to help out. The comedian Steven Wright (who reminds me a lot of George Carlin) used to say, "It's a small world ... but I wouldn't want to paint it." I would change that sentence to: It's a small world but I wouldn't want to dust it.

Earlier this week, I pitched in with my oldies and another couple to help clean our church. (Remember one of my resolutions was to volunteer more.) It was rewarding.

I may not always clean my house but I felt a great joy in helping to clean God's house.

Who?

Unlike me, my mother stresses and over exerts herself when she is having company. She spends more time scrubbing in one day than I do in a month. Okay, a year. I chase the biggest dust bunnies, clean bathrooms and hope people will consume enough wine to not notice the rest.

Over the weekend, she was preparing for some guests and I could tell she was getting stressed. I offered to come over and help her clean. (My sister, of course, routinely makes this offer.)

Later she was telling my father about our conversation, "Sheri said she would come over and help me clean."

He replied, "Sheri who?"

Cleaning Up

Do you ever read those magazine articles that encourage you to scatter rose petals in the effort to be romantic? (They tend to do this a lot in movies.) My immediate reaction is: Someone has to clean that up.

Over the years, I've tried to control my temper and my mouth. When hateful things are said, someone may clean it up but the stain remains.

As a child, I got myself in a pickle more than once. My parents always told me, "Clean it up."

I've cleaned up after the husband, the baby and the daughter. I've cleaned up after dogs. I've cleaned up after my own bad choices. I've spent many hours cleaning up after the oldies.

My current favorite tip is satin sheets, chocolate sauce, whipped cream, etc. I don't own satin sheets. If I did, I would not want them covered in chocolate and cream. Call me a fuddy duddy, but I figured out long ago who gets to clean up.

Grilled by the Carpet Cleaning People

Our carpeting is destroyed. I wish I could place the blame on the oldies but we've all participated.

I explained which areas I would like cleaned. I said there are many stains. She thought it might be fun to discuss how these stains came to be. (Yeah, I'm convinced this will change the approach to the carpet cleaning.) But, I'm game. I filled her in:

We have a big dog. She has not learned to wipe her feet properly.

We used to have oldies. Every fall involved some kind of blood stain. Sometimes we had double falls and the blood looked like a scene from The Shining.

The husband reaches for the remote or his glasses. A glass of red wine is often the casualty.

The path from the kitchen to the patio includes a trek through the living room. Meat drips happen, especially if you're carrying the tray after some wine.

We like to entertain. We don't freak out if something is spilled. Obviously, we don't do a super job of cleaning it up.

At the end of this discussion, she was very anxious to book my appointment and get off the phone. I was just getting started.