My Cleaning Lady

My cleaning lady came yesterday. It’s the one indulgence that I don’t think I could live without. She is my bi-weekly angel; helping me with laundry, dishes, scrubbing, sheet swapping, straightening. You name it, JoAnna will name it done.

I walked in from work to a sparkling family room, lines still in the carpet from a fresh vacuum, the smells of Windex and Pine in the air. Pure joy.

My cleaning lady came yesterday, but this morning I woke up to a “Mama, I pee peed” from my 2.5-year-old. Her clean sheets were ruined, her straightened-up bedroom now has all her stuffed animals and pillows strewn around from a still-dark-out crib and pajama change.

Shortly after her second wake-up, my husband thought it would be a good idea to give her a bowl of Lucky Charms to eat in our bed. My clean sheets are no longer clean; they have crunched cereal and fake marshmallows stuck to them. And the floor, where the remaining half of the bowl ended up, is equally disastrous. Let's not talk about the milk she drank with her beloved Charms.

I’m certain he will think it's also a good idea to cook a four-course meal tonight; the pans must be too clean, the kitchen too organized.

My cleaning lady came yesterday. I had about four hours to enjoy her hard work before my perfectly clean and orderly house became a lived-in home again.

My cleaning lady came yesterday. And today, today it's snowing out. Please someone remind my family to take their shoes off.