The Cleaning Genie

Tell you what. My mother may have spoiled me (us) even worse than I'd realized.

I grew up in a house that was always clean, always full of yummy food, and always comfy and cozy to be in.




I was a kid... and it was taken for granted. Then I was a teenager... and it was really taken for granted. Then I moved out - and realized how good I had it!

It was weird being in my first place. I still had my normal routine of getting up, getting ready, and going to school or work or wherever I was going and leaving all the evidence in my wake. The strange part, though, was coming home. My clothes were still on the floor. The dishes were still in the sink. The wet towel was still hanging over the shower curtain.

Meh? What the crap is going on around here? Shouldn't all of you be cleaned/put away/ready for your next use by now??

Day two: same thing.

Day three: place was starting to look scary.

Day four: Mom comes over and informes me that these things don't just take care of themselves.

Who knew?!

I got it figured out eventually. Well, sort of. I still won't iron - that's what the "wrinkle treatment" setting on the dryer is for. Until this summer, I'd never lived without a dishwasher so I recently struck the agreement with Dallas that if he'd do the dishes I'd do EVERYTHING ELSE. Hate dishes. Bits of food. Stinky water. Risk of knife lurking in the bottom of the sink slicing me. Yuck!

But still, STILL, I find myself spoiled because here at the office I find it strange when the trash can has actual trash in it or when my fingerprints can be seen on my windows (usually from pointing out some whoeerible outfit of the youth going to T-High, or from flipping off the Phelpses who for some reason like to stand on this corner). Shouldn't they just somehow remain magically clean??

I've been doing some research, and it turns out that babies aren't born with a self-cleaning button. This disturbs and worries me.

The spoils of my mother reach far and wide, my friends! Not many girls are lucky enough to have mothers who cleaned things that didn't require cleaning! Or husbands as bleach obsessed as Dallas! They've both contributed to and been a hinderance to my.. um.. de-spoil-ization... But no more!

No more! I refuse to be the mom that has the baby that smells of sour milk and ritz crackers. My nursery will NOT smell of poo. Nor will the car be strewn with stale animal cookies.

Big talk for someone who doesn't have a kid yet, eh? For someone who's barely even been AROUND kids?

Well, my mom managed it.

Mark my words, effers. :)