Sweeps Week

I am not Suzy Homemaker by any means...my house looks lived in. Okay, it looks lived in by a bunch of bachelors, but it's not gross. The only food you'll find on the floor is the cats' fault. No, really, it is...why some cats have to take the morsel OUT of the bowl and put it on the floor I'll never know...but they do...then they leave half of it on the floor. So, if they don't want to eat off my kitchen floor, maybe you shouldn't either. And that brings me to why I haven't been writing as much as usual...I've been cleaning...but not because I want to. Does anyone actually WANT to clean? If they do...they should come here...they'd be in heaven.

The problem is I have a LOT of stuff. It's lying all over the place. You know those "How To Get Rid of Clutter" books? You got it...they are also adding to the clutter. But I must, quick like a bunny, clean up my house to "presentable" status by this weekend. My daughter is having her Birthday Pool Party/Sleepover...and after hearing one of her friends once comment that the inside of my van, in her words..."Looks like your house, Mrs. Simms". Why, thank you very much, you little twit. Okay, I didn't say I liked ALL kids. But I better get in gear.

Another problem that adds up more than you'd realize, is the fact that I am the only one in the house, apparently, with the ability to bend over and pick something up. I've done experiments...I have. I've specifically noted that if there is a piece of paper on the floor, regular 8 1/2 by 11 inch size, strategically knocked off the table by a cat, in the path of where a certain person walks past 87 times a day, it will take approximately 3 days before I get tired of it all and pick it up myself.

I am also the only one in the house who can put "dishwasher loader" and "clothes washer" on my resume. These skills, altho you'd figure were quite readily obtainable by anyone...are not. Next time I watch one of those late night "DeVry University"-type commercials on television, I'm going to see if they offer a degree in those. They should...perhaps that's what they mean by "Restaurant Management"...hmmm...probable. I bet Sally Struthers can't even load a dishwasher properly...and she's no stranger to food.

Don't get me wrong, I've cleaned the house up plenty of times...but we don't routinely have anyone popping over for me to actually make that "cleaning pilgrimage" that often. I'm just not that devoted. I'd love to entertain people...I'm very social...the only problem is that all my friends live "online"...and none of them live close to me. I've tried to mingle...I'm just not the quilting bee, garden club, Pampered Chef kinda person. I can't fit another kitchen gadget in my house...and I'm much too food snobby to purchase one via the likes of a Tupperware-ish party. Yes, I am...I admit it...I am a culinary queen...I turn up my nose to anyone who doesn't know what a shallot is. Arugula and I are on a first name basis...as are watercress and Kosher salt. What? You don't use Kosher salt? Tsk tsk. See what I mean? I'm such a food snob...Alton Brown (of Food Network's "Good Eats" fame) and I could spend half the day arguing over which garlic press is best...and why, scientifically, mine works better. He's always hanging in Atlanta...maybe he'd be willing to come over...hey, I'd even clean the house up!

But, I'm running out of places to put my stuff...and the stuff of my mother's...she liked stuff...I unfortunately inherited all her stuff. I say "unfortunately" only because I'd much prefer her to be alive than to have had it all since 1999. I can't get rid of her stuff...I'm way too sentimental. I have notes my girlfriend and I exchanged between classes from 8th grade and T-shirts from boyfriends saved...you don't think I'm going to eBay my mom's stuff anytime soon, do you? And I'm also running out of time. It might seem like I have scads of time...but I'm not the most motivated of cleaners. I am not the quicker-picker-upper...I clean in spurts and I think my spurts are brought upon some ancient celestial happenstance...and no stars are aligning anytime soon and the summer solstice isn't until mid-June. Oh, I have much better things to do mid-June than clean...at least I hope I do.

So, come Friday, I will do what people since the dawn of man entertaining man have done. I will become a hunter-gatherer. I will hunt down all the stuff I haven't picked up and I will gather it...and toss it into that one room that NO one is allowed to enter. I will keep a watchful vigil...my children will be briefed ahead of time...they know the routine...it's ingrained in them like Pavlov's dog salivating at the sound of a bell. It's like our "Plan B"...our contingency plan for emergencies. And if a bunch of kids dripping chlorinated water on my mom's old oriental rugs on their way to the hallway bathroom, countless times, isn't an emergency...I don't know what is.