I'm still gagging from the smell of Pine Sol today. It reminds me of my elementary school's bathrooms. The whole house reeks of it. See, yesterday we did something that we haven't done in over seven years. We had our house cleaned. Neither spouse nor I inherited the clean gene, so our house is usually some shade of dirty. We do okay with the basics, vacuuming, tidying, dishes and laundry but we're not so good with the deeper cleaning tasks - dusting, windows, fridge and toilet. So finally we decided to get a housecleaner twice a month to do it. This was spouse's scheme, he knows I'm never really going to clean the toilet or fridge, yet he really appreciates the cleanliness of these things.
So what do you think spouse spent doing the night before and morning of the housecleaner's visit? That's right, he cleaned up for her. I shouldn't have been surprised because he exhibited this behaviour the last time we used a maid service in California. I had just forgotten. It all came back to me, along with my provincial mocking. He cleaned the toilet because he "didn't want her to have to do it." And he moved piles of accumulated stuff that haven't been touched in months. I'm more amused than anything, but I can't help taunting since that is EXACTLY why we are hiring someone. Ah it tickles me. Maybe I can schedule a fictitious maid and then he'll clean up for her and I'll just pour some Pine Sol in the sink, spray some Fabreze in the air and we'll save the sixty bucks.
(Spouse wants you to know that he didn't finish cleaning the toilet because he felt she had to do something. He sometimes calls me on it when I shift or exaggerate a detail in my storytelling. In my defense, I think I use hyperbole sparingly. I told him not to worry about it, that I just massaged the truth a bit.)