Clean Windows?

I come from a long line of cleaners. Both Mom and Dad passed the “clean gene” along to the nine of us. Believe it or not, the idea of spring and fall cleaning excites us. Yes – we’re disturbed. Let me elucidate (what a great word, huh? It means to tell with fervor).

Anyway, this week I’ve been doing windows. The eyeballs of our homes. When they are sparkling clean it says something about the people behind the windows. They have nothing to hide. Except – looking through those sparkling windows you might see the dust bunnies duking it out under the bed. Soooo – after the windows I'll get going on that. Welcome to my vacuum Mr. and Mrs. Bunny and all your 92 children.

But then, as I’m swooping them up, I notice a big stain on the oriental rug, because my nose is almost on it, being right there under that bed and all. I know I’ll be rounding up a bucketful of ammonia water and a scrub brush as soon as those bunnies are gone. But when I get to the closet where I keep the ammonia – good grief – the bottle is almost empty. I get my car keys for a quick run to the Dollar General to pick some up. But . . . the cruddy car mat catches my eye. Where did all that mud and dead grass come from?

“It’ll only take a minute to pluck it out and give it a good shake,” I say to myself. When I do, I find that rewards card from the yogurt place I lost two months ago! Yay. Love that place.

Anyway, on the road to DG, I remember I also need paper towels and some milk. Thinking of the milk reminds me that there’s a nasty lump of chocolate waiting to be scrubbed off one of the shelves in the fridge. Dang kids. Never clean up after themselves. And why doesn’t the man of the house remember where the dishwasher is??? Puts his empty coffee cup gently into the sink. Right. Next. To. The. Dishwasher. Gaaaa! He was cursed with the “freedom for all” gene. That includes cups, saucers and pots as well as his underwear. Never closes a door on any of them as they might want to escape and live their lives freely. He refuses to imprison anything. The dishwasher does have bars, after all. Our genes are really Not compatible so it must be true love that keeps us together. Right?

Back in the car something in me snaps. I’ve had it with all this cleaning. So I re-route. I stop and get a bottle of Merlot and a bag of salt and vinegar chips. It’s almost five o’clock anyway – time to call it a day. The clean gene can just shut up for a while as I check to make sure the footrest on my recliner still works.  And I’ll close the window curtains so no prying eyes can see the grandkid's finger smudges on the television screen. 

Have a great, relaxing, weekend. Okay? 



Image: debspoons                                       Free Digital Photos