Mar 27 2008
Coming Out of the Broom Closet…
So… I kinda missed yesterday’s Wijvenweek topic, which was about men. Besides being too crazy-busy yesterday to sit and stare at this computer screen, I also figured that I write enough ridiculous stories about men to last a lifetime. If you’re dying for those stories, you can go back through my Soap Opera Sunday posts.
Which brings us to today’s topic: my household.
A few years ago, my uncle was involved in a really nasty divorce: A beautiful 20-year-old woman named Yolanda, from the Dominican Republic, seduced him and convinced him to marry her. He was in his 60’s… Yeah, it’s a pretty messed up story. Anyway, after they were married and she had secured her American citizenship, she got pregnant. It was apparently too much for her to deal with, so she abandoned her aged husband and baby girl and left. So, they got divorced. Then, apparently her citizenship was in question, so she came back and seduced him again and he married her again. And then, what do you suppose she did? Well, she abandoned them again, causing turmoil, pain, chaos, and one screwed up little girl.
Basically, you have a story of a wicked woman and a stupid man.
I’ve mentioned to you before that I used to live with my evil and insane Gramma D. Gramma didn’t like anyone (especially me) except Brian and my dad. Everyone else was on her hate-list. So then one day Gramma D announced that she loved Yolanda.
(cue the screeching record sound in my head…)
You WHAT??? You love the woman who used your son and scarred him for life? thought I.
“Yes, I love Yolanda, because she always kept her home so clean that it sparkled.”
Yup… There you have it, folks. The measure of a person is not about love, kindness, human decency, but, rather, how well they clean their house.
Hahahahahahahahahaha.
No wonder the woman hated me.
Let’s just put it this way: I’m a crappy house cleaner. I’m a pack-rat with four children, at least two of whom are also pack-rats, and the other two just require lots of stuff and generate lots of mess. When I’m busy (which I ALWAYS am), my house chores are the first thing to go.
Basically, it is all mess, all the time.
(In fairness, though, this makes it sound like I never try, and that’s just not the case. I try to spend at least an hour every day cleaning. However, with the kind of mess that we’re capable of generating, an hour a day barely scratches the surface.)
The only exception to this is once every week or so when someone calls to say they’ll be coming over. Be it my family or Brian’s, or just friendly visitors, it is on that day that we clean like psychopaths. Why bother, really? I guess because I’m so big on keeping up appearances that I have to pretend to be this great housekeeper. So that insane people who see the world the way my Gramma D did will like me. Or something…
So… don’t tell anyone what I’ve just told you here: that I’m a total slob, and therefore a terrible human. It’ll be our little secret…
br>
I think I’ve mentioned to you before the time my Swiss mother-in-law claimed that she “never sees the dirt at [my] house.”
This, after my obsessive and thorough cleaning before each and every visit from her.
Oy.
You are so funny. And a terrible human. Uh yeah.
Hahahaha
hahaha. What’s really funny is that I’m sort of a neat freak. I really enjoy myself in a clean environment - I feel more relaxed and…whatever, not really the point. But Mike? S.l.o.b.
He is perfectly happy living in filth. When he had his own place, laundry wasn’t done until the last article of clothing in the house was dirty - and then he would run all the loads through and dump the clean clothes on the couch. And leave them there. Dishes weren’t done until everything was used. It was a nightmare for me. 
Also…most of my friends are also messy people. I have no idea what attracted me to these people. hahahaha.
But, even with my neatfreakishness, my house is still not very clean. I obsess over my living room and kitchen because that’s where I spend the most time. My bathroom is absolutely disgraceful. I hate to even admit that, but it’s REALLY bad. I’m also not one for changing bedding. My bedding finally got washed because there was so much cat hair on it, I’d get a rash from resting my face on my comforter!
We also do the psychotic cleaning spells. But I secretly love them because everyone HAS to help me with them.
[My LOL Amy for the day: Im in ur repli box fillin up ur webpage!]
HEY GIRL - your secret is safe with me - it will be lost under the mess and clutter of my house within a matter of seconds:)
You know how the scriptures say that Satan wants everyone to be miserable, like unto himself? Well, I must have a bit of him in me, because I always like to hear that I’m not the only one… Gotta go dig through the mess in the kitchen and feed my children.
PS - your gramma D sounds CRAZY!
Long time reader, first time (?) commenter. This post made me laugh, but in a crazy-ish way that your gramma would say something like that about a horrible woman like Y.
And your secret sounds just like my family’s secret. My mom was/is exactly the same way. She would even stuff crap when people came over into places she knew they’d never look. Think: Upstairs bathtub or linen closet. But she had a problem. Let’s hope you never turn that bad
Consider your secret safe with me.
Been lurking. Sorry. Buy some get well cards and set them out when you have company. So you don’t have to clean. They’ll just think you’ve been really sick. :):) I used to be somewhat of a clean freak but not so much anymore. I like clean, but not enough energy to make it happen.. very often.
cleaning like a psychopath–
i know what that is like…otherwise we live in a piggery.
Yep. Me too. Sometimes I plan a party just to make myself clean.
hey you stole my secret !
(PS - I’m somewhat (?) allergic to my cat. That comment about the rash made me sound REALLY gross. haha)
yeah that is how it works here too.
Far too much stuff and messy humans and animals..but boy…I will spray the pinesol in the air to make it LOOK like I do keep the place clean…really really I do.
You’re my favourite kind of human. Genuine, loveable, and not so fabulous that the wanting-to-hate-you-for-being-way-better-than-me instinct doesn’t overwhelm the loveable bit. =P Can I see some photographic evidence? ‘Cause then I’d love you even more!
I feel your pain, I tend to lean on the slob side. Flylady.net has totally saved my butt (and helped my marriage. Yeah, it was that bad). And that website is NOT paying me. hahahaha.
Your Grandma D would not have liked me one bit.
I had someone come to my house, look around and say “A creative person must live here.”
I liked that. My house is messy because I’m “Creative.”
My kids are AMAZINGLY creative.
I also had someone tell me
“Dull women have immaculate houses.
Dull……….dull…………dull………”
I’ve met you. You are NOT dull ;0)
I like to think of it not as keeping up appearances, but as having motivation to get the house clean. The more people I have in my home, the cleaner it stays b/c I’m putting forth more of an effort. I DO like a clean house- my brain works better, but I’m not so obsessed with it that it’s perfect. In fact, I’d say that it’s never perfect- just basically picked up and the major cleaning (floors, bathrooms) done on a weekly basis.
Also, I can’t go to bed with dishes in the sink or toys not picked up. Doing those two things everyday makes a huge difference!
Haha ha, from one “slob” to another, it’s our secret, as well as the fact that grandma D and my mother in law must have been the original evil step sisters in Cinderella.
I’ll join the terrible person club. (Apparently I’m already a member . . .) I don’t live in squalor, but living in a Martha Stewart worthy house is just not a priority for me.
But it does, of course, raise the issue of whether we all tend to judge people based on some totally fatuous aspect of their characters (I know I do - I was watching some man and deciding he was probably horrible because his eyes were a little too close together). Your grandma was obviously vile, but you can’t help wondering what had happened to her to make her like that. If she had a wonderful upbringing, full of love, laughter and home-made cookies, I’ll eat my prejudices. Mind you, if she really did and turned out like that, she’s bona fide evil and probably gets some award.