Now just to set the record straight, I am not by nature a clean freak...I believe in free ranging my dust bunnies and it's really ok for the dishes to sit in the sink for the afternoon. My bathrooms are about the only room I make a supreme effort to keep very clean...mostly because there are 4 boys in this house who cannot aim with any accuracy at all. But once (or sometimes twice) a year a bizarre phenomenon occurs that throws me into a tizzy of cleaning, I become a raving lunatic scouring every inch of the house and purging closets like a demon...... THE ARRIVAL OF MY GRANDMOTHER!!!!
I have two weeks or so to make sure this house shines (like the top of the Chystler building...ala Ms. Hanagain from Annie) and that places I know she will never ever look are neat and tidy. Combine this with outrageous PMS and you have a recipe for disaster...so I clean between bouts of hysterical crying and chocolate gorging..good times.
There is absolutely no reason for me to act like this, that's the kicker. Gram has never ever judged my cleaning, she knows how hard it is to keep the kids happy and take care of the house, it's near impossible some days. So Why??? I'll tell you why...it's not that she ever spoke out loud the words "Gee would it kill her to run a cloth over these shelves" it's the look of disgust..pursed lips, crinkled nose, one eye slightly closed. I'm telling you her look of death could end all wars presently going on in the world.
Because I hate to suffer alone, I've enlisted my cousin to share in the carnage. She is a trooper, I plan on using her as the human shield.
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