The other day I said to myself, I don’t want to cook anymore because I don’t want to do the dishes. But that’s silly, isn’t it? I can’t say I don’t want to wear clothes because I don’t want to do laundry. Food and clothing are basic needs, and I suppose the chores that come before and after are unavoidable. And these things need to be attended to immediately otherwise they just pile up until I can’t take it any longer and resign myself to the tasks at hand.
I went downstairs this morning and there were Halloween candy wrappers and empty cans on the counter. And I ask myself, does anyone know where the trash can is? The answer, it’s right underneath the same counter.
And then, I turned around and saw clean and folded clothes on the table that need a home. Contrary to popular belief, they don’t walk their way up to their respective drawers by themselves.
When I was little, we spent Saturdays cleaning the house from top to bottom. We wiped down our bureaus in our bedrooms, vacuumed the floor, wiped down the kitchen, dusted shelves, and ironed clothes. Back then, we ironed EVERYTHING. I may have learned to iron right after potty training, tying my shoes, and looking both ways when I crossed the street. We had a seemingly bottomless pile of clothes to iron on the floor right next to the ironing board. Afterward, we neatly folded the clothes and laid them all onto the couch so nothing would wrinkle. And then, we carried everything upstairs to hang them up neatly in our closets.
One of my good friends sells small appliances and asked me to help him demonstrate some items at a trade show. He asked me if I knew how to iron. I laughed and told him I was born to iron. But, I rarely do it now. I don’t even think I own an ironing board. I prefer to throw the clothes back in the dryer, and let them unwrinkle from the heat. Or hang them on the towel hook in the shower because the steam will do the trick. But, when it is deemed necessary to do so, I will throw down a towel and clear off my dining room table. My kids ask where I’m going like it’s a special occasion.
I don’t need an immaculate house. I need a house that doesn’t have clutter in every room. My modest wish is to walk into a room and not have to do anything to clean it up.
And I hope no one reads this and believes this is a put down to my family and a not so subtle hint of some kind. I think I have a sixth sense about these things. Maybe it is my superpower. I look around and see what needs to be done, and I can’t walk past it. I see the clothes piling up in the laundry and the dishes in the sink, and it drives me crazy enough to do something about it.
Yeah, I’m the Wonder Woman of house cleaning. Lucky me.