I’m writing this from the parking lot of a gym near my house. I’m hiding out here because I don’t want to be home when the woman who cleans our house gets her “Your Services Are No Longer Needed” note. Yes, I am firing her via note and I feel absolutely terrible about it. I LOVE this woman and so do my kids. They got all weepy when I told them we had to part ways with her. That’s not why I’m dodging her though. I know I can’t be there to tell her in person because she just won’t LET me. I tried to let her go 3 months ago and she talked me into keeping her this long. She’s magic that way. If I don’t just give her a note she’ll be here another six months and I can’t do that. I’m out of work and can’t justify NOT cleaning my own house anymore, no matter how much I hate vacuuming.
Furthermore, why should I pay someone to clean my house when I have perfectly capable CHILDREN? They’re pretty spoiled when it comes to housekeeping (just like their Mom). In fact, I asked the little one to help me clean the bathroom recently and she said, “Fine, but I’m not touching the toilets.” REALLY? See, I was going to make her sister clean the toilets but THAT changed my mind. I also asked her to wipe down the bathroom counter with Clorox Wipes and she acted like I was trying to poison her.
“What is on these wipes? They smell dangerous. What if I accidentally get it in my eyes or my mouth?”
I don’t know. I guess it would burn…or temporarily cause you to see dead people. See, it’s been so long since I’ve cleaned my own house that I don’t really know WHAT this stuff is anymore. I was looking at the wood floors in our kitchen, totally mystified as to how to clean them. I mean, if I mop them won’t that warp the wood? Should I ask our housecleaner? No, because then I’d have to talk to her and soon she’d be cleaning it for me.
I know how ridiculous all of this sounds and I’m not proud. I’ve been letting someone else clean my house for so long that I’ve forgotten HOW. PLUS, I’m too much of a chicken to PERSONALLY tell this woman she no longer works for us.
I, for the lack of a better word, suck.
So here I sit in the LA Fitness Center parking lot, hiding out until she leaves. Oh, wait a minute. How will I get my house key back? Damn it!