I consider myself a multitalented person; skilled in many things, both industrial and domestic.
For example, I can bake. I can take good portraits and use Photoshop to make them better. I speak a second language. I can type a bunch of words per minute. I am a boss at Zumba. I learn things quickly. I’m a really excellent reader, my algebra skills are to be envied, and I can roller skate circles around people half my age, and those half their age too. Seriously, I shoulda been in Roll Bounce.
But, when it comes to housekeeping, I’ll be the first to admit, I leave a lot to be desired.
Even after receiving extensive how to keep a house training at the school of Mimi, much to her shame, I remain a really terrible cleaner. I don’t enjoy it, I can’t seem to stick to a regimen that works, and I get distracted easily.
Did you see American Idol last week? And, chocolate chip cookies.
Sure, I manage the every other day daily tasks of kitchen cleaning and, erm, there’s not really anything else that arguably needs to be done on a daily basis is there?
But, other projects like laundry and bathroom cleaning have a much longer shelf life in my house.
Plus, I outsource as much as possible, and by outsource, I mean ignore unless it’s a particularly good month and I can hire, bribe, shame, or guilt someone into helping out.
Gag and judge if you must, but rest assured that if you make known your intention to visit, things will be in tip top shape for your stay. My mama taught me well enough for that.
Even if you were you to drop by unannounced, I would slap your face invite you in to the “company room” after I wrestle the dog out the back door and kick some muddy Dude shoes out of the line of sight.
We make every effort to keep our front room and the path from our doorway to our kitchen (we have a glass front door, it is the window to our world) devoid of dirty underwear unsightliness so as to be prepared for the random door to door salesman or person who really wants me to not be their friend anymore who drops by without warning.
Everything past the company room however is likely to be in shambles. It is in your best interest to keep your eyes straight ahead and to never, ever venture upstairs. Or into the basement. Or for Heaven’s sake out into the garage! You have no business in the garage!
For some reason I can manage to keep the shared room of Dudes 2 & 3 relatively organized. But, I’ve given up entirely on #1’s hovel, only barging in once a week or so to demand he pull the smelly socks and dirty plates from under his bed as I yell about it smelling like man funk from the hallway.
And, our bedroom.
It is almost as unkempt. I blame the shamefully small closet, not suitable for a fashion loving woman and a man who has to wear suits daily to share.
It is a constant nightmare that requires daily reorganizing to keep even the smallest amount of clothing contained. This is most certainly a task that I fail at, which accounts for the pile of clothing on the settee, and in the corner, and hanging from the behind the door hook, and everywhere.
My mother insists that, were I to simply make my bed daily, or ever, things would automatically look more together. It is an argument discussion we’ve had since I gave up daily bed making in the mid 90s after moving out of her home.
Sure, sure, I get that making my bed could have an added benefit of making my room appear more tidy, but two things: I don’t care, and I don’t get it. I have plans to reenter my bed ASAP after being forced from it each day, so really there’s not much need to waste extra time each morning making it.
I mean, is there?
Do you make your bed everyday?
Remember, DudeMom is a judgement free zone (and that goes for you judging me as well, just so we’re clear).
I’d love to have all of you weigh in on this one with a comment. If the majority of you agree with me, I fully intend to wave this post about in my mother’s face at the next family meal.
If you don’t, I will pretend this discussion never happened.
Bed… what bed???