Growing up the four of
us, kids really liked it when our
grandparents came to visit us for Christmas. That meant we did not have to pack
and take that long drive to either Louisiana
or Arizona
and we got to hang out with our friends over the break. Wait, we have to what?
Clean? I know I know ... cleaning is not bad. It should have been a breeze - we
had to clean with mom every Saturday, but when guests were coming in, we
started from top to bottom like it had never been cleaned before.
Picture this - a game on Friday night ... ah,
sleep in Saturday morning ... what is that noise? Vrmm, vrmm, vrmm (that is a
vacuum noise), mom would be pushing that vacuum right up to the bedroom door. That
was the signal we had better get up ... and let the cleaning begin. My mom had
the most unique places to check to see if we dusted. Yes, there was
always a test. We would leave the bedroom to start on the kitchen or den and we
would hear, "You didn't dust here." Wait ... (vrmm, vrmm) W-H-A-T
(shaking our head, while pointing to our ears and then the vacuum) and we would
continue our "mock" cleaning routine. I mean my mom is not
"no wire hangars", but she just completely burned us (kids) out as
far as cleaning (there are people who clean for a living). In some old letters I
have that she wrote when she first got married, she describes the hotel room
and ends her description with, "And they keep it clean, too".
Okay.
We would "start" cleaning for
Christmas company about three weekends out - well we just kept doing it over
and over, maybe we never got it right. We could not plan to escape to do
anything until the cleaning was done (or until we begged, whichever came
first). Oh, and we better not do anything to make her mad - she would get
us by dumping our drawers in the center of our bed ... obviously that needed to
be taken care of before going to bed (around the corner she would be going,
"Gotcha"). She would "dust through" the house a couple
times during the week. Sometimes she would call when we would get home
from school, "Debbie, would you run around the house with a dust
cloth"? Oh, why did I answer the phone? Well I am kind of a
literal type person (yes, really I am), so I would put on my running shoes,
grab the dust cloth, step outside and run around the house. Done, check
that off my list.
I wonder if mom asked her parents or dad's
parents to dust through the house with her whenever they visited. I
would have said, "Me, oh no thanks, I'm good"! I guess each
household has their little rules. My dad's mom whenever we arrived would
holler, "Don't sit on the bed", just as our hinnies were going to get
comfortable. Oh, I love Christmas memories. Cleaning, not so much!
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