I Dream of Clean... a Humorous Look at Cleaning

It's cleaning day baby! You wake up Sunday morning with good intentions. Today is the day, you say.

But where to start?

The kitchen is hostile territory. The bathroom is... well let's not go there. And what about the hallway?

Kind of confusing, better brew a coffee and sit back awhile and think about it.

Where to start?

You've read every House and Home magazine from cover to cover. The pictures look so pretty. Why do they never show the dirty dishes sitting on the counter or in the sink, and on the table and on the top of the stove? Surely these fancy home and garden people must eat!

Maybe not, maybe they go out to eat? Just the thought of it makes you hungry as you scoot the cat out the door before you retrieve last night's chicken lasagna from the fridge and heat it in the microwave in the same dish you cooked it in because there is not a clean plate in sight and the one the cat ate off of last night looks too grotty; would take away your appetite even if you could find a spot under the tap to rinse.

The lasagna is yummy, could have used a salad, but would have meant washing a bowl and a knife, oh man, tired now from looking at it.

Oh boy...

At last, a sense of direction prevails. Laundry! And a list. A laundry list perhaps would help to organize the job. This seems a better idea than mumbling and ordering yourself around and grumbling when you don't respond to instructions from within.

The laundry part is easy, Add soap, load, start.

Ah the feeling of accomplishment as the washer churns and swishes.

Now soak some dishes?

Better wait til the washing is done. The water pressure is maxed out no point in dribbling water around when what is needed is a power washer to get off the baked and dried on crud.

Best take a break while things spin and rinse and spin again. Your head is spinning now from one too many cups of java while you wait.

1. Dishes
2. Bathroom

3. Hallway

   Best to keep the list short, won't want to overwhelm oneself with the weighty work ahead. And besides, the pen is running out of ink from working on all those other lists of things to do. The other lists are pulling at your mind, but you can't find them on the couch where you last saw them five days ago because a pile of stuff has gathered there too, and anyway the cat (the other cat) is sitting on that, best not disturb the sleeping pile of fluff, it's migration season for the wild birds, and you don't want to throw the cat out and encourage killing (the other cat that's out does not hunt except for scraps and crumbs in your kitchen, so that cat's ok).

As you're putting done laundry in the dryer you realize another load would expedite the cleanliness mission as you kick around the chair covers that have piled up near the tub in the bathroom, but these need shaking out, oh that cat fur is everywhere, so you take a pile of these to the front porch, and oh no killer kitty escapes, and the 'scrounger' sneaks back in.

Another load is lurching and spinning as you weigh the pure brutality of nature and listen as a butter dish goes crashing to the floor in the kitchen, and a furry blur runs under the couch.

No point in crying over spilt butter as you gingerly step around the glass and search for broom and dustpan that got left outside in the rain after you cleaned the car and then decided to go for a ride and when you returned it was already dark so you didn't notice. Oh man!

A trip outside to fetch the broom lets in the cat this time with a dead bird in its mouth and you don't notice this til later when you wonder where all those feathers came from on the bedroom floor.

It's too late, the bird is dead, the broom is wet, and you realize you will have to vaccuum.

You start up the Hoover, but to your dismay there is no suction and further investigation reveals the bag has broke, and it was the last bag, so you better sit down and make a list.

No Pen!

Thank You Mike, aka Mckbirdbks, for illustrations!