Pretty normal day today. Spritzed myself with gobs of rose perfume and intended on doing lots of cleaning, but actually only washed a few dishes and some underwear. No, not at the same time.
We’ve been living like slobs all week, tossing things at trash cans and missing, leaving empty yogurt containers around the house, getting down to our last pair of underwear. Hey at least we’re changing our underwear. My sons used to fight me every day about having to change their socks and underwear. Luckily, they have a friend who developed some sort of painful foot fungus because he wouldn’t change his socks. Now we just say, “Do you want to end up like C??!” and they say a begrudging, “No,” and shuffle off to change their socks. Sorry to C’s parents for being kinda glad that C had the foot fungus; it’s made my life a little easier.
Anyway, we were slobs until I remembered we have guests coming for a visit on Friday. I invite people to the house every week or two as a way of forcing us to resist our natural slobby inclinations.
In the past, my house used to be very, very messy. No, I’m not being coy. It really was. How else do you think that I was able to give J the advice that if you let cat puke sit for a few days under a throw rug, it’ll get dried out and crusty and you can vacuum it up, lickety-split, easy-peasy? It’s like Hints from Heloise for deranged housekeepers. Here’s another little nugget: for your baking/cooking needs, use baking stones and cast iron. You’re not allowed to wash them! Not allowed! It says so right in the cleaning instructions. That’s like gold at the end of the rainbow.
I used to dust the house twice a year, and then promptly have an allergy attack from all the disturbed pollen and have to lie down and read a book for the rest of the day. I have a picture of me dusting while wearing a surgeon’s mask. That was back in the day where we ate tuna helper and boiled broccoli almost every night. Those were the days. We were livin’ the dream.
Today I attempted to clean the interior of the dishwasher in the hope that that would fix the dirty-dishes-out-of-the-dishwasher problem. Because the dishes are taking over. Apparently if you leave dishes on the counter long enough, they evolve into simple life forms and reproduce themselves. Either that or I really shouldn’t have bought the set of 12 big plates, 12 medium plates, 12 little plates, 12 cups, 12 big bowls, and 12 small bowls. Because that’s 84 dishes that can be used up before anyone has to wash a new dish. Dirty dishes were stacked menacingly on the counter in teetering columns, looming, scaring the children.
I put a few dishes in the dishwasher and ran it with some super-hot water, detergent, and vinegar. They look mostly clean coming out of the dishwasher. I licked a bowl to be sure and there was no soapy residue.
Which reminds me: Cats aren’t clean; they’re just covered in cat spit.
Star Trek Stat:
Number of people in bad oompa loompa wigs: 1
Watched while cooking/cleaning in the kitchen: Malcolm in the Middle. Yes, again. I’m only on episode 30 out of 151.