Standoff

I have some issues with the need to keep my space clean. As in squeaky.

I will, however, admit that in the past year I’ve lightened up a little bit. The kids are small, the house is big and I’m too damn busy to do things like wipe the windowsills once a week! I’ve gotten a tiny bit better. I don’t always dust twice a week. I no longer mop the floors once a week and sometimes I let a mountain of laundry sit on the folding table for so long that it gets all wrinkly. While I’m at it, I’ll also fess up to throwing said wrinkled laundry right back into the washing machine to avoid ironing it. Whatever, don’t pretend you’ve never done that. If you haven’t, then give yourself a big old kick in the ass pat on the back.

So, even though I’ve relaxed my cleaning regime slightly, I think I might just be operating like any normal mother with three children and a spastic dog, who is attending graduate school and attempting to keep up with her husband/friends/blog/house/life.

Yesterday I decided to wipe down all of the baseboards in the kitchen. But that project quickly turned into me washing every baseboard on the first floor. While I was down there on the floor scrubbing away at what looked like a rather nasty chocolate milk splatter, I observed that when I inspect the house from the height of a tiny human, it’s disgusting. There were greasy fingerprints, smears and smudges on the beadboard walls, the french doors, the kitchen chairs and pretty much anything below 3 feet. So much for relaxing my standards.

I found myself crawling through the entire first level of our house, peering under radiators, behind drapes and even beneath the clawfoot tub.

About a month ago I noticed a mysterious brown and chunky substance smeared on the closet door in the foyer. Someone had also taken a considerable amount of time smearing whatever it was on the glass to the side of the front door as well. At the time, I noted the existence of that brown stuff and then I turned and walked away. I walked away hoping that it was something other than what it looked like and, since it didn’t smell like what it looked like, I left it there. Yes, that’s right. I left it there. And I also left the house for 10 days knowing that the brown mystery substance was there.

I’m not sure what possessed me to go away for ten days and leave it festering on the door, but it felt damn good! Maybe on some level I was hoping that someone else would take care of it. Someone like the maid or a herd of cleaning fairies or my husband.

In the end, even though I left for ten days, the brown goop stayed. It waited for me to return and then it patiently waited another two weeks for me to cave in and attack it.

While I was crawling around the first floor wiping down baseboard and woodwork, the brown goopy chunks of smeared stuff caught my eye yet again. So with a defeated sigh I stood up and stalked into the kitchen to retrieve a butter knife with which to scrape the dried goo off the door.

Turns out it was banana.

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Comments

  1. Well of all things it could have been I guess a banana was among the best : )

  2. Mmmmmm….fruit!

  3. “Is that chocolate or poop?”

    Phew, banana! 😉

  4. I only thought about taking the picture after chipping away at it for 5 minutes. It was really much worse than this pictures depicts.

  5. I wanna know how you finally determined it was banana. Smell? Feel? Taaaaaste????

  6. Well. That’s a relief. I think we may be related somehow. I’ve done exactly what you just described quite recently….and yes as dweej asked, I’m very curious, just HOW did you determine banana???

  7. I’m with ML. Considering the tiny nudist colony that resides in your house, that brown smear…..well, nevermind.

  8. I would like to be this squeaky clean. I find that I am defeated by the fact that I work up a sweat trying to pick up, only to have the boys walk around behind me, dumping out bins and pulling cushions off of couches and spitting juice all over the place. It makes me want to cry. How do you manage?

  9. I wonder what would happen if I actually added kids to the already questionable equation of my life. I’m pretty sure you would be appalled at the state of my house, and I don’t have tiny nudists running around smearing banana and/or poop on the walls!

  10. Hi! Coming through FTLOB, I’m new there. I know all about letting go of cleaning because of little ones. I used to be so crazy about cleaning and organizing, i’ve learned to let go a bit.
    Cheers!
    Claudia

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