I ran 7.5 miles and then did 30 push ups earlier today. I’ll get to that in another post some other time, hopefully soonish. I’ve had my first ever ice bath, wasn’t as bad as I thought and finished my cleaning chores so I can finally sit down and write.
I had to actually vacuum my own home today and it got me thinking about cleaning. . I pay The Ladies to clean the whole thing every 3 weeks. Well, to be fair Babu pays them to do it. So other than dishes or the more than occasional disaster I flat out prefer not to clean, ever. It’s not that I mind cleaning, it does a lot for the clearing of a mind or the satisfaction of a job well done, it’s just that there are always at least 100 other things I’d rather be doing. When we didn’t have The Ladies, Babu and I split the chores we couldn’t pawn off on the kids evenly, and that division of work applies to what’s left for us even with regular The Ladies visits. I could go into an entire side bar about how much I loathe laundry, but I’m trying to stay on track here because very soon I’m getting to my point.
I have never been a neat freak. We don’t live in filth , most of the time, but I’ve been known to let dishes pile up for days and days before doing them. They aren’t going anywhere. I recently solved this problem by assigning MiniMe and the Destroyer to dish duty. Babu does 90% of the cooking because he wants to. I am a great cook but ever since he moved back in this is just how it has been and I’m certainly not going to screw myself out of that deal. The rule in our house is whoever doesn’t cook, cleans. As the kids are 6 and 9 now, and they eat the family meal, they can participate in the family chores. I’m not sending my kids out into the world with no life skills. I don’t want my future children in law glaring at me because my kids don’t know how to load or unload a dishwasher, or scrub a toilet, or fold their laundry. Houses and families don’t run themselves and they live in this house and are part of our family. One of our family rules is that everyone participates in the running of the household.
Since I’ve never been a neat freak when you come to my house you get what you get. I don’t play the do special freak out cleaning game. I don’t subscribe to the Mother or MIL is coming so the house has to be spotless crap. If they are coming to see a clean house then they can clean it if they don’t like it. Thankfully I don’t have a Mother or MIL with cleaning issues, so this has worked out well for me. In reality there are only 2 people I will go out of my way to clean for.
the first is more a set of people than a person. People who have never been to my house before because I don’t want them to think we live like pigs all the time. This way when they come back over that 2nd time and see that we actually DO live in a messy house they are more apt to forgive me because they saw the nice cleanish pretty house the first time. I have even been known, in times we don’t have maids, to clean my house but leave something uncleaned on purpose because I don’t want to set the bar too high. Like the dusting, or the mopping etc. I work, Babu works, we both have outside activities and if you’re spending too much time looking at the dust bunnies or dog prints on the floor and making judgments about that, then you are a bitch and don’t need to be in my house or in my inner circle. I will ALWAYS try to make sure the toilets are clean, the drive is shoveled and the couch is febreezed because we aren’t savages. But those 3 things are pretty much my only standards.
Except for person #2. I will go out of my way to clean for Chef Badass. Chef Badass is a professional. He likes a clean working area and does not like to cook in a messy kitchen. Our relationship has deepened over the years as he has spent more time cooking in my kitchen, but even in the early stages I tried to make sure the kitchen was presentable because I could just tell he would prefer not to cook in a mess. This means I make sure the sink is empty and clean, the stove top is clear from gunk, the counters are clear and as spotless as I can get them. He has never demanded this, but it has become a bit of an inside joke with us and at this point in our relationship he would probably tell me to get my a$$ is the kitchen and prep it properly for him. I’m not entirely doing this out of unselfish motives. His food is amazing and he is probably going to be famous some day. Famous like 4-5 star restaurant maybe even on TV famous. It started out as sucking up. If I give Chef B a great kitchen to cook in maybe he will cook for me another time beyond this one. If I give him a really clean kitchen when I walk in with enough ingredients for a DOUBLE batch of B’s and G’s and sweetly demand he comply with my desires maybe he won’t tell me to STFU. I may have mentioned previously that, and I mean this in the most love filled way possible, Chef B is kind of a dick. He is unabashedly himself, and all chefs are probably a bit of a dick, just like all surgeons are arrogant. These personality traits are almost required to be a good one. One day Chef Badass is going on to big things. We have loved and supported he and Ava G since that very first night I got her wasted on wine while she was helping him cater out Open House. One day he will have his own place, and he will command that place in whatever way he sees fit, it will flourish. My not so secret hope for this eventuality is a personal bottle of vodka in the cooler and a stool in the back with my name on it. The cute boy named Julio to fetch my Vodka and pour it for me is entirely optional. ” Chef, the crazy curly haired lady is here again.” I want to be able to walk into his place and walk right back to the kitchen because we are just that close. Truthfully, I dream of this stool/vodka combo as a little nirvana where I can escape the world and enjoy a fabulous make me whatever meal without having to worry that there are no reservations for 6+ months. I want Chef B to succeed, and I hope that when he does he remembers all those times I cleaned my kitchen and let him use my printer. 🙂
Which brings us full circle. Tonight Chef B and Ava G are coming for dinner, which Chef B is cooking. And Uncle Shaggy is coming over and bringing his new girlfriend, who has never been in my house. The Ladies don’t come until Wednesday so the house is a bit worse for wear at the moment. But I febreezed the couch, vacuumed up the dog/cat hair from the hardwoods, made MiniMe clean the guest bathroom toilet and made darn sure the kitchen was clean for Chef Badass. I hope he remembers 5 years from now that I like Ciroc Red Berry, a stool with a back and a foot rest and to hire a cute waiter named Julio.