Please Come Over, My House is a Mess

Since I can’t afford a cleaning person, I found that I need a way to motivate myself to clean the house instead of just staring at the mess and shaking my head. I’ve tried that. Shaking your head doesn’t work.

I find having company is a great motivator for making me open the cabinet under the sink, grab the Windex, Spic & Span and furniture polish. I start with the basics—kitchen, bathroom, living room furniture. Then, I start to notice things like a piece of crumpled up Christmas wrapping paper behind the couch though it’s almost March. Hmm, guess I haven’t cleaned back there in a while. After coercing my husband to help me move the couch so that I could get in back of it, I saw even more jobs to be done—cleaning the baseboard and picking up fortune cookie wrappers (not sure, don’t ask).


After cleaning up the joy from Christmas, I walk by the front door and glance through the glass panels. Well, I try to glance through them. Who has been walking around with butter on their fingers and wiping them on the panes of glass? Windex to the rescue. Despite the cold temperature, I realize I have to clean the outside windows as well as the inside. This brings me to the porch. Geez, why are the cushions eschewed? Straighten. When did the porch double as the shed for storage? Time to drag stuff to the backyard to put it in its proper place. While back there think, “Did we really forget to take down the hanging plants from those long ago summer days?” The drooping gray blobs are too much to bear. Stand on lawn chair in the middle of snow, manage to grab plants and then notice the chair I’m standing on is leaking lovely brown rust stains onto the pure driven snow. That’s sure to ruin the deck if the snow ever decides to melt. Drag chairs under the upper deck. At least the rust stains will meld nicely with the red rocks beneath the deck. Climb stairs to the second level deck. Is it possible we all have such terrible aim when trying to get the recyclables in the bins? Bend, pick, throw. Better. Take shortcut through kitchen and sneak back to the living room this way. Isn’t that where I was cleaning? Oops, that tracked some mystery black substance onto the kitchen floor and best of all, the hall rug and stairs. Get the sweeper despite already having completed the vacuuming. Vroom, vroom--dirt’s gone. Put away the sweeper in broom closet. Yikes! What is at the bottom of this thing? Debris from days gone by. To the Windex! Spray on towel, wipe away evidence.


Almost time for guests to arrive. Walk down hall. Forgot I had blocked my two teenage boys’ rooms out of mind. If I had a week, there wouldn’t be enough time to clean them. Thank goodness for doors. With no windows.


I de-perfume myself from cleaners just in time to hear the front doorbell ring with the first guests. I look around proudly as the house starts to fill up. Everything (minus the boys’ rooms) is sparkling. Good for me, what a terrific hostess I am.


A half-hour later, thinking, “Are you leaving yet? Tired from all this cleaning.”


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