Cleaning is a learned behavior
There are some things in life that are less trouble as solitary pursuits — like singing in the shower and cleaning house.
From a young age, my sister and I knew Saturday was for cleaning house. While most kids looked forward to the weekend for leisurely pursuits, I dreaded it because it meant a day of drudgery.
And it wasn't just Saturday cleaning — it was Friday night "pre-cleaning." Since our mother worked most Saturdays, we eventually "graduated" — at the ripe old ages of 10 and 7 — to taking over the entire weekly cleaning ritual.
One of our favorite stories, when our kids begin complaining about how rough they have it, is to regale them with the story of raking the carpet. Yup, that's right — raking. We had ugly, green shag carpeting popular in the 1970s. For a reason still beyond my comprehension, our mother insisted we rake the carpet to erase footprints and sweeper-marks. As one of us vacuumed, the other followed along with the rake, until we had vacuumed/raked ourselves into the closet where the sweeper was stored.
We spent the rest of the day dragging the rake around behind us to erase our tracks. Invariably the first thing our mother did when she came home from work was walk on the carpet.
In direct rebellion to this upbringing I vowed never to become a "weekly cleaning" nut when I got my own home. Fortunately, time and circumstances prevent a rigorous cleaning schedule nowadays.
Just because the ceiling fans have beards and we're writing grocery lists in the dust on the coffee table, I wouldn't say our home is dirty and disorganized. I wouldn't say it's showplace clean all the time. It's "lived in."
While cleaning is a lower priority for the rest of the family, they occasionally will help me if I whine enough. But like singing in the shower, I've learned to keep my mouth shut and clean when no one is home.
We're an equal-opportunity household and Dennis does his share of the chores. He cooks, does laundry, grocery shops, and mows the lawn. This weekend, bless his heart, he volunteered to help clean house.
While I appreciated the offer, I couldn't help but think about the difference between his idea of cleaning and mine. My idea of cleaning is to start and stick with it until it's done. No coffee breaks or lunch breaks. No breaks for a quick peek at the race on TV.
While I do a thorough job — which means I clean whatever happens to be bugging me at the time — he gets a little fanatical about things.
My idea of cleaning involves picking up and putting things away, brooms, dust rags, and cleansers. His idea of cleaning involves ladders, sweeper attachments, and occasionally, a hammer or some other type of tool.
What might be a simple action like plugging in the sweeper for me, could turn into a major rewiring of the kitchen for him. I can't decide if it's his diabolical scheme to drive me crazy and never ask for his help again or whether he really thinks the kitchen must be rewired before plugging in the vacuum sweeper.
Either way, I think I'll change my strategy. I'll suggest he clean house while I'm at work.
— DONNA BERNHARDT
