Yesterday’s post went down like a big arrow pointing down, didn’t it? No comments! Ah well, what’s good for the goose is a course for your horse or something like that.
I have always said that hiring a cleaner would change my life. This week, I thought I’d treat myself by paying someone to clean the house. And I was right. It’s nice when that happens.
|Who has ankles that thin?|
I didn’t want her to think I’m a slob, so I did some cleaning before she arrived. If she was about to start work in the loungeroom, I was in there sorting it out. I asked her to change the sheets, then felt guilty so I stripped all the beds. I was about to make them up with fresh sheets when I started to worry she’d be offended. So I left the beds, then found myself apologetically dancing around her as she went about her work. “Oh woops, sorry! Messy isn’t it?”
At one point she tipped a gazillion years’ worth of crumbs out of the toaster. She smiled at me and I went all “How did they get there!?” and spent the next 10 minutes tut-tutting around the kitchen. I blamed the state of the kitchen on the bad lighting, which I apologised for. I then decided we’d go out and leave her to it. She probably did a little dance of her own when we left because I was so annoying.
It’s a strange feeling having someone else do your housework. Don’t get me wrong, it’s great and I am so grateful, but at the same time it was uncomfortable. It really shouldn’t be. It’s not like she was cleaning our home for free.
She stayed for 4 hours and transformed our house. It is sparkling. It’s still ugly but it’s really, really clean. And I feel like a new woman.
One unexpected side effect has been everyone’s reactions. My daughter ran from room to room screaming, “it’s so clean!” When my mother came over, my little girl took her by the hand to show her our clean house. Mum was so thrilled, she offered me her heartiest congratulations before having a coronary at the shining kitchen sink. My son walked into our bedroom, pointed to the bedside table that has been there forever and said, “We got a new table!” Errr…. no. We didn’t get a new table. It’s just that this table is usually covered in crap.
My brother came over for dinner and he was just as excited. “It’s amazing,” he said, looking around the room, “She dusted!” I wanted to remind him that I too dust the house but there was little point. For this woman’s dusting leaves my dusting for… wait for it… dust. Sorry but that little joke was always going to happen.
So there you have it – it’s amazing. I am basking in this clean home and I’m not allowed to complain about anything for some time. To those of you who are lucky enough to have cleaners, I hope you appreciate them. I like to think that you do.
This November, I’m writing one post every day as part of NaBloPoMo.