Friday Afternoon

It's 1:30. The cleaning people arrived a little after 9:30. They're still here.

We must be pigs.

In fact, they are doing a lot of deep cleaning, like scrubbing one of the heating vents that's always been dusted, but never really washed. The bathroom ceiling is clean. They're not just wiping down the woodwork, they're washing it.

Even so, I'm ashamed to look them in the eye.

But I do want them to come back every other week, from now on until forever, and keep everything clean. It's nice, really nice. It's something that I never, ever really had the time to do myself. Would I have done it if I had the time? It's a mystery.

I look back to my childhood and remember helping with the cleaning under my mother's direction. She had someone come in to clean from time to time, but mostly not. I dusted and I vacuumed, because I had no choice. My most hated task of all was brushing and combing the steps. Yes. The carpet on the steps to upstairs had grown thinner over the years, and vacuuming there, while difficult, was mostly ineffective. So she sat me down at the top of the steps and gave me a stiff plastic brush and my job was to brush the dirt and lint out of the carpet on each step -- there were six -- and then vacuum the steps and of course the floor at the bottom. Gaaaagh. I hated this above all. Combing the steps. I was pretty sure that none of my little friends got stuck with that one.

I wonder how much longer they're going to be here? One woman was in the kitchen alone for three hours! And they haven't even gotten started on the family room yet.

Oh, she just came in with all her dusters and spray bottles. This is an ecologically friendly cleaning service, btw, so there's none of the typical cleaners and the house doesn't smell bad, just clean. And now, in addition to thinking I'm a filthy pig, she knows that I watch Yes, Dear in the afternoon, and this woman has no respect for me whatsoever, I'm sure.