I HATE Housework

I know, in my heart, I was born to have a housekeeper.

I hate housework. I have never liked housework. I will never like housework.

When I was a kid I was the oldest of five.  My mom, an excellent housekeeper, would send us outside while she did her housework. My sister had horrible earaches, which kept her indoors, quite often, where she was witness to the art of house cleaning. I, unaware of what was happening indoors, sat out in the yard digging in the dirt with my brothers. My sister is now an excellent housekeeper; just like Mom. When I wish for my house to be clean I tend to go sit in the yard and wait for it to happen. Sometimes I even dig in the dirt. I am always surprised when I go back inside.

My house is full of cobwebs. I think of them as the perfect pets; no water or food needed, and no getting up to let them out at all hours. If I expect company during the holidays I toss a bit of glitter on them to give them a festive adornment - which brings to mind one of the happiest days of my life. It was approximately six years ago during a Christmas gathering at my sister’s home. I found a cobweb! I could hardly contain my inner glee!  I have never felt closer to her than I did on that day.

In order to vacuum my house I have to dust off the vacuum cleaner. When I get through using it I have to clean the filter. It seems rather redundant to have to clean the cleaner, clean, and then clean the cleaner again. I would rather just buy new carpet every couple of months. .

Since I live alone I do not have to wash dishes very often because I no longer cook. In fact, I use the oven to store my important papers. I use fine white paper plates and cups and any dishwashing tends to take place when I run out of forks. I have a service for forty eight.

How DO you keep baseboards clean? This has stumped me for years! I am getting too old to continue painting them.

I figured my income taxes this year in the dust on my furniture.

I do iron my clothes…but only what I am wearing for the day. Why spend hours ironing clothes you might outgrow before you wear them again? (That’s another subject for another day; heavy sigh.)

Anyway, my house needs to be cleaned and I do not want to do it. To keep from cleaning today I applied for seven jobs, read two books and four magazines, watched six hours of television, played games on the computer, plucked my mustache and eyebrows, discussed writing a resume for a neighbor, sat on the riding mower (and wished it would start), watched a new batch of kittens play with each other, polished my toe nails, took a nap, and now I am writing down my thoughts.  

I know, in my heart, I was born to have a housekeeper.