20 Random Thoughts While Desperately Cleaning the House Before Guests Arrive

Since we’re in the midst of a friendly home-invasion, here’s one from the archives…

1. “We are apparently complete and total pigs. How in the hell did peanut butter get on the ceiling? What happens in this house when I’m not looking?

2. “Scrubbing bathroom floors takes a certain will to live.”

3. “It’s really sad when your ‘hide everything in here for now’ drawer progresses to two drawers, then a closet, then the guest bedroom, then your own bedroom, and finally, the saddest place of all, the garage. Because once something goes in there, you will never see it again until you move.”

4. “I can’t confirm what happened on this kitchen floor here, but it looks like David Hasselhoff was outwitted by another cheeseburger.”

5. “Oh, there’s the phone bill that I swore I never got. Hmm. Guess I shouldn’t have had that account rep fired. Oh well, life is full of learning opportunities.”

6. “I’m never going in that closet again. Life’s too short.”

7. “That’s not a dust bunny. That’s a WMD.”

8. “Holy cow. Is that really an 8-track player? Right there. Next to the macramé owl, the plaid bell-bottoms, and a wrinkled copy of the Constitution before fanatical conservatives lost their minds and started hacking away at all the good parts?”

9. “Clearly, the concept of cleanliness in this house runs from ‘everything in its place’ to ‘I’ll just drop this right here, I‘m done with it’.”

10. “Perhaps it’s better not to know how the underwear got in the china cabinet.”

11. “I would have chosen a totally different career path if someone had sat me down as a youngster and said ‘Cleaning house really, really sucks. Pay more attention in school and make enough money to hire a staff.’”

12. “There are enough cat toys under this couch to defend a small country.”

13. “Why is there a 30-foot extension cord under this bed? What kind of vibrator needs that much mobility? Does it come with a roll bar?”

14. “That is not a giant pile of dirty laundry. It’s performance art.”

15. “Surely the headline on that dusty stack of newspapers does not say Oklahoma Joins the Union!

16. “Why am I always finding strange hair in the shower drain that doesn’t match any of the known occupants of this house? Is there somebody here that I’ve forgotten about?”

17. “I think something in the fridge has come back to life. I can hear whispering and tiny hammering.”

18. “I wholeheartedly affirm that one day I will tend to the ancient tower of porn magazines in the special drawer. Just not today, it’s too soon. Sweet dreams were made of that.”

19. “Furthermore, I solemnly swear to one day sweep off the patio. There are leaves out there that fell when the Mayflower bumped into Plymouth Rock.”

20. “And finally, I promise to never let the house get this bad again. Ever. But I know that such a promise is an empty lie, as do the guests just now knocking on the front door, pulling cobwebs from their hair and standing in total darkness because the porch light has been burned out since the first moon landing…”


Previously published in “The Sound and the Fury” and “Bonnywood Manor”. No changes made as this house is full of people that are supposedly related to me in some way.

Family Visitation Update: The latest wave of relatives was in the house mere seconds before a shocking incident occurred which requires its own blog post. Stay tuned…

Side note: The photo is an interior shot of one of the sheds in the backyard that we have not fully explored since George Michael was still with “Wham!”…

34 replies »

  1. ““That is not a giant pile of dirty laundry. It’s performance art.” and ““I think something in the fridge has come back to life. I can hear whispering and tiny hammering.”” Really cracked me up 🙂 And I can totally relate to #3. Fun read!

    Liked by 1 person

  2. Of course there were “No changes made” in this post, as that would imply a clean up was needed. So what if it’s a fire hazard, bulging with everything imaginable except a smoke detector? What the fire dept. doesn’t know can’t hurt it (unless the fire house is next door to the house fire, which is spreading faster than a house on fire).

    Liked by 1 person

    • Agreed. What happens in my Fortress of Solitude is no one’s business unless the welfare of society in general is affected in some way. And it probably IS, but until somebody can prove it I stand by my original statement…


  3. There is a rule, penned no doubt by that gigantic twat waffle Murphy – he of the really tasteless sense of humor but who has impeccable timing. It goes something like this: No matter if you keep your house pristine, so that the Health Department, should they drop by, would be totally okay with eating off the kitchen floor and will give you a gold star for your attention to the grout in the guest bathroom;the SECOND you a) come home from vacation, which let us face facts. NOBODY wants to do, everyone is tired and cranky and exhausted. Being t, c and e means you fling your luggage and all that crap you bought because it seemed whimsical at the time of being in a foreign country without obligations all over your pristine living room and any spare closet space or bedrooms get their fair share. Therefore your domicile may look as if squatters have been squatting in your space while you were off frolicking in the turquoise waters of wherever you went and you appear to be without a shred of domesticity. Even if you have some. Um. Back to the POINT. Murphy will laugh evilly (which may account for the tiny voice you hear in your unwashed refrigerator) and make sure that the pickiest relative or friend or acquaintance picks that moment to drop in and stay a while. I mean they didn’t misunderstand, did they? That fourth tequila shooter was probably a bad idea because it appears you invited the whole bar to your house and they took you up on that.

    My house had nary a crumb on any kitchen surface, and my entry way was free of the obstacles placed there to keep Houdini channeling dogs in a tiled area and off the %$@# living room carpet (it never works. Still I persist), my bathrooms smelled fresh and of pricey cleaning agents and all my clothes were put away (a bloody miracle). And NOBODY came to call. For three weeks. The minute I decided “aw the hell with this” and started LIVING in my house, everyone and their third sister wife twice removed showed up and wanted to come inside. Granted it was 110 out there in the real world and my house is nicely air conditioned and a pleasantly chilly 74. But really? Church people, neighbors, some idiot salespeople who can’t read, relatives whom I hadn’t seen in years, and some others who call themselves friends ALL showed up. I hadn’t cleaned up the guest bathroom and there were dirty clothes in the tub (don’t ask), the garbage can needed to be emptied. Pay day is far off, so I was cooking, so there were dirty dishes in the sink and crumbs on every surface imaginable. The entry way was strewn with totes and the really old, falling apart dog gate that I keep trying to use to keep the boys corralled. My living room had a funky wet dog smell and there were dirty towels on the couch to keep the wet dogs from sullying my pristine couch. Of course everyone showed up.

    I learned that I need to keep my house picked up and tidy. Because then my citadel of solitude remains MINE and mine alone. Just saying. The next time you get fair warning (you did, didn’t you?) that relatives are coming to stay ‘for a while’ (even if you love them dearly), clean up your house. Something will prevent them from showing up. Murphy says so.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Wow. I seem to have struck a nerve, which was not my intention. (Okay, that’s a partial lie, as nerve-striking was inherent in the mere fact that I posted this mess in the first place.) But you are completely on target: My Fortress of Solitude can be astonishingly pristine for weeks on end (seriously, that CAN happen) with nary a visitor. But the very second I let things slip (which can be any day that ends in “y”), a cavalcade of relatives will come tromping down my street, demanding admittance and refuge.

      I clearly haven’t done enough to make sure that this should not happen. I mean, I never send Christmas cards, to anybody. Shouldn’t this be warning enough?

      Apparently not. I am forever hounded by the potentiality of impositions, and it’s really annoying. Just let me be, in the name of all that is holy and sacred.

      Oh, wait. There’s not much to be found in this house that is holy and sacred. I might be barking up the wrong tree….


  4. I was choked with laughter from the very first comment. Reminded me of a Dennis the Menace single-panel cartoon. His mum is up the ladder scrubbing the ceiling. Dennis is standing below saying ‘I dunno, how does peanut butter and jelly get on anything?’

    Liked by 1 person

  5. This is hilarious! And the cat toys? I just found three under our couch, and we haven’t even had a cat for several months! And I can’t wait to find out what the “shocking incident” is…

    Liked by 1 person

  6. Interesting I should read this today when I decided to clean both bathrooms – though we only use one. Meaning the other one, the one in the basement, hasn’t been cleaned since the last time we had house guests.
    The result? Three spiders were served with eviction notices.
    Gosh, sure hope they can find new housing.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Okay, confession time: Basements scare me, so if I had one and there was a bathroom located in such, it would never be cleaned. Perhaps someday I will share the details of why I feel this way, but suffice it for now to know that my Granny had a basement that terrified my very soul…

      Liked by 1 person

    • True story: In my tender years, my family decided that we were going to start a business selling macrame products. I must have made at least 100 of those damn owls before the family got bored and moved on to other things…

      Liked by 1 person

      • Ha! I made a macrame owl in school that adorned our wall until our move. You’ll be thrilled to know I have a WIP that features the word macrame. And not for the first time. What a shame your family’s business, and owls, never took flight.

        Liked by 1 person

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