Home "Work"

The other day, our house maid had quit  and my wife was looking around for a replacement. With the dearth of blue collared workers, we knew it was going to be a long and hard grind ahead.A two pronged strategy was chalked out as a BCP (Business Continuity Plan). a) Check with the cook if she would double up as a housemaid for the extra wages until a replacement was found b) Everyone chips in with their bit (do their own bed, dishes, rooms and equipment) until the replacement comes in

Option a) as expected was shot down by the cook, even before it was explained in full, for the extra wages were unimportant compared to other priorities.

Option b) was enforced at home, like an emergency declared across the country. The first day started in right earnest with a whole set of learning from folding the rug to fluffing the pillow. When the coffee mug arrived, the thought of cleaning it actually took the zing out of the drink and my attempts at stowing the mug away after a quick rinse was caught by the wifey. The same was repeated after breakfast, where the soup bowl, the plates and spoons used needed to be cleaned. By the time I was done, I had figured out that you don’t get anything clean, without something else getting dirty – in this case, Me!.

My daughter was faring no better. Her idea of making a bed always was to spread out the blanket. Her style of cleaning plates and spoons was to dump them into the sink and turn on the tap. Collin,   Mr.Clean,  Dr.Scrub,  etc were medival torture chamber weaponry. Her idea of cleaning her room was even better. If guests were coming on a visit, all the mess in the room which included ipods, ipads, clips, watches, dryers were all dumped on the bed and covered with a blanket, the clutter hidden from view. If guests were coming over to stay, dump all of those in her study room and lock the door. Her idea of room cleaning is to sweep the room – with a glance. Plan B was a rude shock and awakening for her. Her efforts to skip the dishes were brushed aside by a song from my wife: I like hugs and I like kisses, but what I really love is - help with your dishes!

A couple of weeks later, there was still no sign of the replacement (or was Wifey actually delaying it to get even with us?). Realization began to dawn on multiple fronts. For example, we began to realize that  Housework is something you do that nobody notices until you don't do it. My daughter is convinced that Housework is the reason why most women go to the office. Reluctantly, we went about it, while my conscience was singing - Some days you are the pigeon. Some days you are the statue.

Finally, we found a replacement, who had one look at my daughter’s room and said: -This mess is a place!

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