We had guests last week/end and had a great time. W&L are fantastic people with whom we always have great adventures whether it be LA, Jersey Shore, Philly, Portland or Seattle. Good times. Good times also mean that our place was sort of a disaster today…and yesterday too but we needed a day of recovery.

Anyhoo. I meant to clean today while W was at work because I have learned the hard way that I prefer to clean alone. I am a lone cleaner. BUT time ran out [laying by the pool] and W came home and I was caught in the act. Frustrating. W stepped in to lend a helping hand. Helping hands and cleaning lead to fights. Big fights.

You see, W likes to discuss and plan cleaning like a normal person. Me, I hate that. Let me do it. Let me do it all!!! I would rather clean city hall then talk about cleaning. Talking sucks!

The other thing you have to know about me is that I have cleaned for a job or as a part of my job since I was 13 years old–before if you count cleaning rentals. I know how to clean (despite my history of messy rooms); I know how to clean very very well. I know how to mop and sweep like a janitor–because I was trained by a janitor before they went on strike while I was a lifeguard.  Any attack on my cleaning skills is an afront to my humanity. DO NOT tell me how to clean.

W, as a part of being enthusiastic about cleaning, does this. He had the gall to suggest that MY cleaning pattern did not make sense. That he may have been right in this one particular instanse was beside the point.


You left hair on the toilet!!!

HAVE YOU EVER HAD TO CLEAN PROFESSIONALLY?!!?!?! I HAVE!!!!! You don’t know how to MOP!!!

stomp stomp stomp….I brewed on the porch for a minute. Smiled. Then secretly smashed and dug my dirty feet onto HIS (not mine–I only mopped the kitchen before I stormed off) freshly mopped floors.

He doesn’t know about those spots. heh heh….

Anyway. The house is clean. We, our relationship, survived. We hugged it out. I get to finish folding towels the RIGHT way. I am content.




One thought on “cleaning….

  1. Ken had the professional cleaning experience in our household–he worked as a janitor in an office building in high school and was pretty cocky about it early on in our relationship–I am thankful, though because he doesn’t blanch at cleaning toilets, cleaning heads, and cleaning up dog vomit and worse. However, I learned to clean from my mother who was a neurotic housekeeper and insisted that her daughters would become neurotic housekeepers too even if it killed us. Ken liked mops; I always did floors on my hands and knees up close and personal–when I used to do them; now, I maintain and live and let live attitude other than sweeping now and then…

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