Housecleaning

I did some actual housework yesterday morning. It’s not that I mind doing housework, it’s just that I’m so bad at it. My mother was a poor housekeeper and her daughters do only marginally better. I have seen worse housekeepers, but not many. No brag, just fact.

Yesterday, I cleaned out my kitchen cabinets. I got almost all of them done before I kicked a box and injured the fifth toe of my left foot. I tried to ignore it, but after I tripped over another box, I realized it really hurt. So I stopped working, elevated my foot in front of the TV, and got out my newest mystery book.

I learned that trick from my sister. If you get hurt, you don’t have to work – somebody else will do it. Which when we were growing up, was usually me. My youngest sister had another ploy: “I don’t know how.” and then would aptly demonstrate how inept she was with a vacuum, a hammer, a broom – so somebody else would have to do it. Sister Kay also perfected “I have to brush my hair first”, when there was a group chore like clearing the dinner table and washing the dishes. By the time she got through brushing – somebody else would have finished the dishes.

My oldest sister taught me a trick about dishes. Don’t bother washing the dishes before you go shopping. If you get in a wreck and die, somebody else will do them for you.

I have one housekeeping trick. If you see company pull up in the driveway and your house is a mess, put the vacuum cleaner in the middle of the floor and greet them at the door with a dust cloth and can of Pledge in one hand, “Hi, please excuse the mess; I was just getting ready to clean.” With any luck, they’ll answer, “Oh, here let me help you.” Unless it’s one of my sisters. They’ll just suggest you go shopping till the urge to clean safely passes.