Mrs. Clean
No, this is not about Mother's Day! I'm not that stupid.
The timing is just coincidence.
Yes, this week we finally hired a house cleaner to come whip our mess into shape, but I want to make something clear:
IT IS NOT A MOTHER’S DAY GIFT.
Not only did we book the cleaner weeks in advance of Mother’s Day (which in and of itself should be a clear indication that this is not meant to be a Mother’s Day gift, because I never manage to handle my Mother’s Day plans in advance!); not only is the cleaner coming days before Mother’s Day; and not only is this something Mom and Buried has wanted and the house has needed for months, but it would be insulting of me to pretend that the house cleaner is only for my wife.
We all live in our home, not just her, we all contribute to the mess —some of us more than others *nervously pulls at collar* —and we all have a responsibility to keep the place clean. Plus, we all live in 2024, a world in which gender roles don’t define responsibilities. It’s not Mom and Buried’s job to clean our home, and therefore hiring a cleaner is not a gift for her. It’s a gift for all of us! And I’ll be damned if it gets counted against my Father’s Day. I need new socks! So it’s actually a gift for no one. Because gifts are luxuries, and a cleaner is not a luxury, a cleaner is a necessity.
Because kids.
Everyone knows children are petri dishes designed to keep parents sick and weak in order to topple their regime and install their own (they’re like the CIA: the Children’s Intelligence Agency), but it’s high time we acknowledged that children are not just germ factories, they are mess machines as well!
For every piece of clothing or dirty dish you pick up, three more are hidden someone else. For every trail of crumbs you vacuum up or pile of wet towels you put in the dirty laundry, dozens more are materializing as we speak. There is no way to prevent this or to stay ahead of it it, certainly not without external help.
We used to understand this. We don’t anymore, because of woke social media and the need to present a perfect image of the perfect home and the perfect family and the perfect life to everyone you’ve never met, but back when I was growing up, we accepted the mess so matter-of-factly that there were television shows on which the entire conceit was “they have a live-in maid!” We used to know how hard it was to parent and work and keep a clean home and we didn’t pretend it wasn’t. Mr. “Lynn” Belvedere and Tony “The Boss” Micelli didn’t pioneer the dissolution of traditional gender roles just to be forgotten!
But the Burieds can’t afford Tony Danza. We can barely afford Danny Pintauro! So instead, we splurge on a cleaner once every six months and expect them to save the day. But they can’t, not by themselves.
Because clutter.
Clutter is but one aspect of the mess children make, but it is a huge one. And hired help is useless to combat it! They can scrub and wipe and dust and vacuum, but they can’t remove and eliminate. They can’t Marie Kondo (remember her?) all the nonsense my kids refuse to get rid of, or the shoes and clothes Mom and Buried refuses to get rid of, or all the very important papers and knickknacks and batteries and cords I will NEVER get rid of! They can’t make those decisions.
If this person even so much as thinks about putting that 7-month-old Shake Shack receipt in the trash, I will go APESHIT. I might NEED that!
That clutter of course, and the cleaner’s inability to reckon with it, is why we spend the days before the cleaner comes doing what the cleaner is coming to do: clean. Which is another reason this is clearly not a Mother’s Day gift, because, as her husband and someone who has witnessed this situation in the past, I already know that hiring a cleaner, while helpful, also means that my wife will start cleaning her ass off - and yelling at all of us to join her - before the professional cleaner arrives!
(Getting your wife a gift that is nothing more than labor in disguise is disrespectful and weird and does a Roomba count as labor too because I think I might have to return something.)
I get where my wife’s need to pre-clean is coming from.
It’s practical, in that the aforementioned clutter needs to be removed so the cleaner can both access and concentrate on the real shit rather than have to work around and/or spend all their time picking up surface level mess. Why pay for a rare cleaner if they’re going to waste their time moving stuff just so they can eventually clean?
It’s budget-conscious. We’re paying this person, let’s make sure we’re getting our money’s worth!
It’s also strategic, in that doing our own cleaning beforehand can actually help multiply the cleaner’s cleaning, by not only letting the professional focus on the real hardcore stuff since so much of the rest will be done, but also in doubling the results by enjoying the benefits of multiple consecutive cleans! That’s playing some three-dimensional chess right there!
It’s also a little nuts? Because while I understand the reasons for pre-cleaning before the cleaner arrives, THAT’S WHAT THE MONEY IS FOR! Write the check and take the win!
Yes, I said write the check. I’m old. And my house is dirty. And the cleaner is coming today and it’s not a Mother’s Day gift. But investing in a regular housecleaner once a month or so would be.
Maybe next year.
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Book Report
Now that Mother’s Day is over - we did it, fellas! - it’s time to move on to Father’s Day.
This Father’s Day, I’m running a giveaway for my book in which one lucky winner will win a collection of Yeti cooler stuff with which to keep their beers (and etc.) cold while they hide in the garage reading Dad Truths. (You have to hide in the garage because it’s so funny your laughing fits will wake the kids!)
To enter, all you need to do is prove that you bought it. So go buy it! And then click the button below for your shot at a bunch of goodies, including a signed book and some special coozies. Good luck!
