Today was all about Cleaning The House. I have a guest coming to visit on Saturday. This guest has visited plenty of times before and has officially been bumped from “guest” to “friend who’s like family, so get your own drink” status.
And, apparently, once you’re in the “friend who’s like family, so can you pick up the oreos on the way over” status, I don’t have to clean for you, other than hiding the dirty dishes in the basement or somewhere. Vince taught me this last Tuesday. He popped over (with 27 of his kids) for his walk/bible study that he and Darling Husband are doing together, and tried to make his way into the kitchen.
If you recall, the dishwasher is broken and we’re too cheap to replace it. We’re usually good about keeping up with the dishes. Well, truth be told, Darling Husband is usually good about keeping up with the dishes. Me, not so much.
But Darling Husband hadn’t done the dishes so there were all of Tuesday’s dishes plus Monday night’s dishes to be done when Vince tried to make his way into the kitchen.
Vince lives in a nice clean house and has a bit of OCD and I didn’t want to dismay him too much with my messy kitchen. He might refuse to eat a dinner made in my messy kitchen ever again, so I told him, “No guests in the kitchen!” He got a little miffed and said, “Guest? I’m not a guest! I’m a friend!”
I ungraciously let him in and, thankfully, he was so involved in trying to convince Darling Husband to watch The Walking Dead that he didn’t even see the looming piles of dishes. Darling Husband isn’t going to watch The Walking Dead, no matter how much Vince raves about the storyline. He hates grisly movies/tv shows and threatened to tell Vince spoilers about Once Upon A Time, if he didn’t stop wah-wah-wahing about The Walking Dead.
Finally they left me in peace, and while they were on their walk, I washed those stupid dishes for 40 minutes and still had a teetering pile on the countertop left to do. But after 40 minutes of dish washing, I was sick of dishes, so I started writing the blog instead.
Back to the point of the story: after Vince’s offended reaction when I called him a guest and wouldn’t let him see the messy kitchen, I realized that I don’t need to clean for Saturday’s “friend who’s like family so can you drive me to the airport”. In fact, if I clean, he might even get insulted like Vince did! Oooo. Smooth move, right? The old, “I’d better not clean the house or my guest will get insulted” trick. Boy, am I clever!
But then I remembered that the whole point for this “friend who’s like family, so can you help darling husband install a new chandelier”’s visit is to take pictures of my house so he can be a guest writer on the blog. Dagnabbit. I don’t want to jinx the guest writer deal. As much as I like writing the blog, having a guest writer every now and then does give me a night off to watch Once Upon a Time with Darling Husband. But all the picture taking means I’m stuck cleaning, even at the risk of offending my “friend who’s like family so can we borrow your car while ours is in the shop.”
I haven’t had a guest in a few weeks so the house has gotten messy, messy, messy. Apparently, my possessions have wild parties at night and when we wake up in the morning, they have to freeze wherever they are. Every room had little piles of things that belonged in all the other rooms. I spent most of the day ferrying things back to where they belong and cleaning up mysterious piles of beer bottles and pinata fragments.
With all the mess, I needed recruits to help me. I have only 19 more days of homeschooling and we can be done for the year, so I declared today a “Day Off From School But Don’t Get Too Excited Because We’re Going To Clean Instead” day.
The boys are horrible at cleaning. I give them a job to do and they nod their heads like eager little puppies, and scamper off to do their jobs, but the next thing I know the chorlox wipes are hanging from the tips of one’s ears and he’s moaning like a mummy and chasing the other one around. Or they’re supposed to be folding the socks and underwear, but instead they’re putting the socks on their hands and the tighty-whiteys on their heads.
For some reason, they’re just not invested in the outcome of the cleaning. Go figure. No matter how many times I say, “Guys, if you just focus and get the job done, you’ll have a sense of satisfaction at a job well done and more free time to play,” they still can’t focus. That last bit about “more free time to play” isn’t true, because they get a lot of playing done while they’re cleaning, what with the wipes on their ears and the undies on their heads.
Tried a new tactic and told them that if they proved to me that they were actually trying to help and attempting to focus, and if we got enough done by about 2:00, we could go out for donuts or ice cream. They liked that idea, and they started off pretty good, but soon got distracted with beating each other over the head with the roll of paper towels.
So, I separated them and used some of Mary Poppins’ advice and played music while they worked. Disney songs on Pandora.com. The first song that popped up was from The Lion King, which they’ve never seen because the scene where the Daddy lion dies makes me cry. It was the Hakuna Matada song about the farting warthog, and they were so thrilled about getting to hear songs about farting animals that they actually got their work done.
Donuts and ice cream for all!
It’s impossible to think of The Lion King without including this Doctor Who clip.