She’s Heeeerrreee!

I heart you, but please don't yell at us.

The omnipotent and martyrific powers of Jesus, the vicious cutting tongue of Susie Green and the cleaning prowess of Joan Crawford on speed (“I’m not angry at you, I’M ANGRY AT THE DIRT!) these are all attributes my mother possesses in spades. Here’s the problem. She’s downstairs right now, potentially snowed in for the night (her WORST nightmare) at my house and we didn’t get a chance at so much as a surface clean before this happened.
For those of you who don’t know mom here are a few gems dropped through the last few years.
“I am NOT using that bathroom, where is your bleach?”
“Is it really that hard to have toilet paper in every bathroom?”
“This is a disgrace!”
“What is that SMELL?”
“I don’t know how you can stand to live like this.”
“No, I can’t sit until this kitchen is spotless and all the dishes are put away”
“I’d rather just go home and eat, thanks”
Long story short. Our house gives her cold sweats, my lack of cleaning skills horrifies her, and my inability to cook makes her hang her head in shame. It is an absolute mystery to her (and to many others) how I could have turned out so undomestic when she EXCELLED in this area at all times. While I enjoy the pristine bathrooms and kitchen areas in her house, I cower in fear when we visit as they soon will be destroyed by my agents of chaos. Wishing I could manage to master her bed making rituals where quarters spring skyward off firm mattresses with sheets ending in hospital corners, sometimes makes a gal feel inadequate. Especially now that the last fitted sheet just went into the washing machine and I am left with few options.

So now we scramble. I heard my husband discreetly make his way up to the potential “guest” bedroom and whip out the vacuum to rid it of dog hair and lint. Then for good measure he even did the hallway. Her face has gone from receptive and jovial to perpetual grimace with clenched jaw as the long hours with the kids wear her down and their demands begin to hurt her ears. We will prepare for the aggravation caused by dry air and bad pillows and brace ourselves for the rant regarding the DC governments inability to get the roads clear in time for her to get home to mentally prepare for work on Monday.

Pray for us.



Filed under 1, dirty houses, mother, snowed in

10 responses to “She’s Heeeerrreee!

  1. That is the complete opposite of what’s going down here in NC. I find wine works either way.

    • dufmanno

      North Carolina. That sounds good right about now. She was up at the crack of dawn waiting to get outside with her industrial scraper so she could escape. She’s like a machine.

  2. shhhh! she might hear you!

    • dufmanno

      She did hear me and she was NOT happy. We also had the added joy of having to drive her up to CVS for extra strength Excederin. She took one look at my garbage pail on wheels and let loose. “So unsanitary. Do you know how unhealthy this is and how easy it would be to just clean it instead of let it sit here?”

  3. The Last Post

    I will be thinking of you and I know exactly how you feel, does your mom do that look that makes you want to hide in your wardrobe and weep.

    My mom was in the Royal Air Force and my father in the Royal Artillary and both have a military style fixation with neatness and a place for everything and everything in its place.

    I on the other hand am a sweep it under the carpet and if you cannot see it then is doesn’t exist sort of person. My sister is a bit of a neat freak too but I was so happy to see my niece wipe sticky strawberry jam fingers in her hair, I don’t feel the odd one out in our family anymore.

    I can really recommend screaming into a pillow, or an ipod on full volume and a fixed smile. Works for me 🙂

    • dufmanno

      I’ve been told in no uncertain terms that this house WILL be clean next time she comes over. “Just give me one weekend and some industrial strength disinfectant” is what I believe I heard her say. I’ve tried the pillow yell and the earphones and sadly it didn’t help much.

  4. Ya know, you shouldn’t even try to appease her because you know it won’t work.

    Here’s what I recommend: next time this happens and she has to spend the night, take the time to completely sanitize and disinfect her room. Wash the sheets and make the bed exactly as she requires (hire help if you need to). Hell, even put one of those “sanitized for your protection” wrappers around the toilet.

    Once you’ve made her area perfect, find yourself a single, perfectly formed dog turd and place it on her pillow like a hotel mint.

    Garnish with pig blood.


    • dufmanno

      My cat did that to my father once when she was angry at him. He didn’t believe it was on purpose but I knew better.
      My mother on the other hand is such a formidable adversary I doubt she would even blink before pulling out her own set of crisp, clean one million thread count sheets to replace the soiled ones. Then a year down the road I’d get some payback. When I was least expecting it. She’s quite scrappy. Like a mongoose.

  5. I’m not scared of the dark, noises in the night or spiders, but your mom’s got me cowering in the corner!

    In a series of possible suggestions, send her to my house. It’s a haul on a likely dirty airplane to a house with 3 dogs, 1 cat and a baby. It’s not uncommon to see pet hair tumbleweed making its way across the floor. She’ll either explode or think you’ve improved.

    • dufmanno

      It’s funny, she only seems interested in improving MY domestic skills. She can actually appear forgiving in the case of other people. “Well you know Sally works so she probably doesn’t get much time to clean. YOU on the other hand are able bodied and own a mop so get to it.” Then she makes up some possibly half true case scenario. “You should be thankful. Think of your cousin who’s been in a wheelchair her WHOLE life. I bet she would love to be able to dance around with a duster and a can of pledge so just count your blessings missy.” Nice mom. Just to clarify, my cousin was in a wheelchair, but she had a cleaning woman and had no desire to do that shit herself, working legs or no working legs.

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