Yes, I am a stay at home dad. Yes, I try to keep the house clean. I would even say I’m a bit fanatical about things being in order.
I am not, however, a woman.
So once a month, my normally beautiful wife simply gets fed up with the molding getting dusty, or the floor not being mopped very well, or the bedding not getting washed on time. This is a dark day for me and my poor, unsuspecting children. We reel in terror.
Mom has turned into an Army Sergeant, and ordered a cleaning day.
The groans start to fill the house, and the crying on the floor like a baby commences. Soon the house begins to rumble with the pounding of fists on the floor as the shrill whining reaches it’s peak with the age old words, “Do we have to do it today? Can’t we do it next week? It’s a pretty day, we should go to the beach!”
The kids complain too.
Nothing will do. Bribes fall on deaf ears. Mom has pulled out the white gloves. Old toothbrushes are handed out, and marching orders are given.
Alas, this will be the longest day ever.
My assignments are always the worst. I either have to clean our bedroom and bathroom, or the kitchen. The fact that I will get to do all the outside work as well is thrown in as an added bonus.
Lord, save me from yard work.
I guess the master suite isn’t really the worst job. I do, after all, have my alarm clock/ stereo/ iPod charger/ vegetable steamer in my room, so I get to blare out my favorite Al Green songs along with the master himself while I contort my body like Gumby to clean the backside of the toilet. I also get a nice relaxing shower, if scrubbing the grime off tile on your hands and knees with alternating cold and hot water falling on your back is your idea of relaxing.
Luckily this time, I got the bathroom so sparkly, that when I reported for duty to get to the lawn, my leave of absence was surprisingly granted.
Suddenly, the day looked a whole lot brighter.