Being at home after retirement has created a flurry of cleaning aids such as vinegar, cleaning rags, vacuum cleaner, dust mop, broom and everything required to do a thorough cleaning of the house.
For many years, as I traveled along the roads of the US and Europe, I never had to think about what method of cleaning was best for the house and never thought of asking my friends or neighbors for help figuring out what to do with any dirty item.
Once, when I was totally fed up with coming home on Friday evenings and finding dirty dishes from here to eternity, I decided to resign as a wife and caretaker.
The following Monday, I left a lengthy note on Grumpy’s computer which read: “Today, I resign as a wife and housekeeper; I have loftier dreams than coming home on Fridays and cleaning after you and the kids. I would love to be able to unpack my suitcase, place the dirties in the laundry cart, get a glass of wine and relax from the troubles of being at work for a whole week. I need time for a bubble bath, a back rub, get into my pajamas and relax listening to music. I would love to be welcomed with dinner on the table, someone to rub my feet, enjoy some intelligent conversation for a change and hear how much I was missed during the week; and not be accused of being in a bad mood when I get home.
In contrast, I get to pick up all the dirty dishes around the house, make sure the kids are still alive, change al the linens and towels draped on the furniture and to top it all, vacuum the carpets because someone dropped cookies on the floor and someone else stepped on them creating a mess.
From this day forward, I expect to come home to a clean house, no dishes on the sink, no laundry to be washed, clean linens on the beds and clean carpets all around the house.
Make it your job to find someone to clean this house on Friday mornings, whether you pay the kids or someone else to do the job, as neither I nor my paycheck will be coming home any more to a dirty house.”
So, it went. I left once again on Monday making certain the kids were alive and well, Grumpy fed and cared for, to continue to be at the beck and call of the people who needed assistance with their building projects.
To my surprise the following Friday, after parking the car and entering the house, the clean smell made me wince; the house was absolutely spotless and not a sign of a dirty dish or dirty underwear was to be found anywhere in the living room or kitchen. To my amazement, the linens were changed, the laundry cart was empty, and the floors were spotless. I should have written the letter sooner.
I knew the people in the house could not have done this job to such perfection, so I asked: “What happened?” the answer was simple: “I hired a young woman to come in on Friday mornings to do the chores and get the house clean before you get home.”
I love this Grumpy man of mine. Sometimes he surprises me with his timing. Today, I don’t get the back rub or the bubble bath, but I get the occasional glass of wine and I get to clean the house at my leisure when needed.