Suzanne quit yesterday. She’s been cleaning our house once a week for 6 months. A good friend gave me some great advice a few years ago: Hiring domestic help is a super investment. And it is, especially with two kids in the house. I’m proud to say I haven’t cleaned a toilet in ages, and I don’t plan to — at 36, this is a gift I give to myself for making it this far. And getting a housekeeper is good discipline. It means we have to tidy up once a week so she can really clean.
Suzanne says she’s burned out, but she also says she’s still going to clean the homes of our neighbours on each side of us. Hmmm. This makes me question her reason for leaving us in the dust and dust bunnies.
We’re not super fastidious or picky about her work, though I have asked her to wipe baseboards on occasion. She totally misses the point of my meditation corner; each week she tucks the bench, candle and books against the wall as if clean = linear. Suzanne’s a religious person, who once confessed to us that she would vote how her husband wanted. She also has a special service on her TV that blocks “swear words.” So maybe she was shocked the day I said said Jesus Christ in a context that was rather non-reverential. Or maybe she found the old Penthouse that’s under my bed (yes, Suzy knows about it — we bought it together on our honeymoon in 1999). Or she looked up what KY is really used for.
Anyway, we’re flying on our own again, maitres chez nous, $50 richer each week. I’ll have to look into the latest innovation in toilet brush technology.
