Lina and Sal are still at ‘spring cleaning’ and the place is starting to shine. That’s a good thing. I am rarely called upon except to bring a ladder and take it back, lift a chesterfield and put it back – that sort of thing. That, too, is good. I am not a good ‘spring’ cleaner.
I am no chauvinistic pig, however. I clean. In fact, I do a lot of cleaning around the house. Mr. Domestic, they call me. But I confess that I sorta pick what I do and then make a bit of a fuss over it. It’s a male thing.
For instance, I always ‘clear’ the table. I don’t always wash up afterwards but I always clear. And, of course, I make a bit of a show of it and crack jokes and act goofy. I make my chore memorable. In this way it seems as if I am doing more than I am. And on a regular basis, no less. Reliability personified.
Then I disappear. And you can count on that, too.
Just as well. This ‘spring cleaning’ thing is a kind of cleaning I am not, it seems, very good at. It requires being on your knees (can’t do that) and cleaning a thin film of dirt from here and there (can’t see that!). It requires taking stuff from different places (didn’t know that was even there!) and doing different things to it before it is deemed clean enough to put back (what sorta things!?). It is, as they say, complicated.
I just don’t have the right stuff for this. This kind of cleaning requires more than willingness, strength and good looks. Ya gotta know what to do with a dirty comforter, lamp, rug and overhead fan as well as things with grout and cracks and God-knows-what-all. Just cleaning the kitchen cabinets took them all day! This is multitasking with multiple tools in multiple ways none of which I am familiar with.
I can’t even find things in the kitchen cabinets!
But that is not the main reason I am not doing so much.
We live in a 1200 sq.ft house – give or take. But a lot of cleaning is done in little 2 sq ft areas. I occupy at least 4 sq ft standing straight up with my stomach sucked in. I simply can’t get in to 25% of the spots that are targeted for the ‘spring clean’. And in those spots generous enough to accommodate me, they aren’t so generous that they will allow me to then move about with any ease whatsoever. I can get stuck doing this kind of work and no one wants that.
Then there is the awkward problem of the 20 square foot areas. Big enough for me….but not big enough for anyone else to be safe if they are close by. When I ‘turn’ in the kitchen and someone else is there, they have to ‘watch out’. It can get nasty in a confined space and no one wants that, either.
The exception to that rule is Sally. Sally thinks the kitchen is hers. And it is. I am OK with that. But, you know, sometimes a guy has to go into the kitchen……..
When that happens, Sally continues to roam the kitchen as if I wasn’t there. It is the ultimate expression of denial. She literally doesn’t see me. She’ll walk right up to the sink while I am doing the dishes and turn on the taps, wash her hands, dump crumbs and put in a dirty dish as if I wasn’t even there! That is not easy. I am very much there.
When she crosses the tiny kitchen (from say, west to east) and I am in the way, she just kinda pushes past me looking a bit surprised by the unanticipated glancing collision. Think: the USS Starship Enterprise traveling at warp speed and there is an unanticipated ‘vibration’, “What was that, Scotty?”
“I dunno capt’n but whatever it was we are already a thousand light years away.”
How is that possible? It is like she is living in another dimension and our dimensions ‘collide’ briefly in a rift in the time/space continuum. In a strange way, I have only 25% of my normal presence in the kitchen. It is weird.
But, that too, is OK with me.
I just ‘beam’ myself up and get the hell out!