We were in the car with our Native American Ministry friends last spring making the long trek across town for Shabbat worship. I sat quietly as Lura talked with a mutual friend on the phone. During their conversation Lura mentioned a new house cleaning job that she just acquired. She asked if Maria's schedule was open to help with the initial cleaning as that is always the hardest. It was apparent from listening to one side of the conversation that Lura was going to have to do the colossal job herself.
"I could help you," I offered after she hung up.
"Really?"
From her surprised reply I deducted I don't look like the house cleaning type.
The house is 5,000 square feet, three and a half baths, five bedrooms, two teens, two elementary age children, two cats, two parents and toys, candy and food regularly strewn from one end to the other. That first day we cleaned both of us could hardly move at the end of the day and we pleaded with our husbands to take us to dinner so we didn't have to stand any longer. It was apparent after our combined 15 hour clean that the job was going to be too big for Lura to do by herself so here we are over six months later I'm still helping clean that house.
Although after three years of not having my own income I have been tickled to hold cash in my hand that I had earned myself, I do not enjoy cleaning other people's houses. I find it a rather gross job and am always sore the next day after all the bending and stooping.
In an effort to bring some interest into our routine I created a cleaning contest. There had been six Easter baskets on Easter morning stuffed with green plastic grass. By the time the "cleaning ladies" had arrived that grass had migrated to every nook and cranny in the house. After the third or fourth week of finding Easter grass tucked away in small places I approached Lura with the contest rules: Whoever found the last piece of grass would be declared the contest winner. A week or two later the prize surfaced when the owner of the house put a beautiful 3D stained glass butterfly in the trash. And the competition became more intense.
Each week we think we have found that last...and each week one or the other and sometimes both of us march in with a strand of grass held high and announce, "Look what I found."
I still dread cleaning day (I've decided Lura was right....I'm not the house cleaning-type) but the cleaning contest has brought a fun dimension to the undesirable task of cleaning someone else's dirt.
