I Am NOT Becoming My Mother, I Married Her?
Posted: Monday, September 14, 2009
by Marijo Phelps
My least favorite chore in house cleaning is mopping the floors. I am not quite sure why. Today is floor mopping day, one of our kitties had a big accident and, well, it is definitely time. When my sister and I lived with our parents, we did that chore on hands and knees, no mops used in the household, no, sir.
Mom was, well, my sister and I affectionately called her Mother Immaculate.
I looked at my sister, she looked at me and while mom demonstrated the correct vacuum technique our eyes looked slightly towards the ceiling. Slightly and we'd best not get caught.
"There, that's how it is supposed to be done, you girls please finish this up," mom said as she bustled off to the kitchen getting back to her cooking.
The floors on hands and knees we mastered but apparently we were still learning about the sofa beating techniques. We were in grade school. Our neighborhood was surrounded by hills complete with sand stone caves and playing places. Besides being mama's little helpers we were also the boys dad never had. We went up those hills and played in the sandstone, dust and sand. That meant that some came home with us. It was making this cleaning day so memorable.
The plus was that dad taught us to use tools and paint. By the time I was six, I knew enough about hammers and screw drivers to have put together a little stove for our basement playroom. Complete with wooden checkers, screwed into the orange crate, for knobs to turn the burners on and off.
This chores and lists stuff wasn't all bad, but you couldn't have told us that back then.
"OK, did you both dust your rooms? " mom was answered by fast moving faces nodding up and down.
"Let's go have a look" Oops.
Was it only in my good imagination or did she really used to don white gloves before inspecting Colette's and my rooms very carefully?
"Hum, Marijo, there is Dust on this nick-knack shelf, I want it done over and please do it correctly or this will be subtracted from your allowance."
Colette's shelf passed but then mom looked under her bed. "What is all of this? These clothes must have been here for a week and should have been in the laundry hamper this morning before I sorted the wash! Ohhhh, Colette what are we going to do here? You know you aren't allowed to have anything under your bed"
Colette elbowed me and whispered "At least she didn't find the dust bunnies."
The battle started. Mom decided to confiscate Colette's underwear and charge her a quarter to get it back . Our allowance was around 50 cents a week, so this was a big deal back then.
"That's ok, you can have them, I'll just turn the dirty ones inside out and wear them." was the solution my inventive sister presented.
Not to be outdone by an eight year old, mom had a new plan. Colette had the small bedroom with the big closet. Dad made a five foot tall drawer stack all down one side of the closet. The drawers were partitioned off into small compartments to hold socks, underwear, jewelry and organize all those little hair things. Colette also stored all of our board games in her closet.
I got home early the next day and ran in to get something from Colette's room. Oh, my, there must have been a tornado while we were at school. Apparently mom had taken each drawer and dumped it on the bed, on the floor, on the desk. All the board games joined in too, because there were parts and pieces everywhere. I left through her back door, yes, the smallest bedroom had two doors in and out, and circled around through the kitchen.
I heard the front door and in came Colette. Mom followed her down the hall to her room.
"Ahhh, what happened to my room?!" my sister was moaning.
" I thought since you liked to live in a mess, maybe you'd like some help." Mom commented as she left to hang wash outside the house.
We didn't see Colette for several hours. Amazingly it worked. I don't think Mother Immaculate ever found anything under Colette's bed again, not even a dust bunny.
Fast forward. My sister and I are not that bad at housekeeping, really.
I married a wonderful guy. On the weekends, before I retired, we'd clean together. He started upstairs and I started downstairs and we'd meet in the middle.
Then I retired, after an unplanned lay off. It made sense that the house cleaning was all mine now.
I had just finished the downstairs bathroom. This meant that I had gloves on and scrubbed the toilet bowl, then wiped it down, used the scrub brush and finished with Scrubbing Bubbles and another wipe down. Not to mention mopping the floor on hands and knees, it is a small bathroom and a mop just doesn't do it..
"Honey, there is butt dust on the toilet"
"No way, I cleaned that toilet three times and with gloves on, show me"
I went into the bathroom and my honey was doing something on the back, where the toilet seat hooked on. Yep, he'd flipped up a little flap that I did not know existed. There was a screw where the seat attached to the toilet bowl. Yes, there was some dirt in there. I closed my mouth so the steam wouldn't escape while I bit my tongue. Interesting logistical trick, try it sometime.
"Ah, honey, I didn't even know that little flap was there. You know, there are some Q-Tips in that drawer and if it really bothers you, have at it," I thought that was a mild response considering how the bathroom gleamed.
I married my mother. I can't believe I married Mother Immaculate! At least he likes my cooking!
So why am I taking you down this cleaning travesty trail of reminiscence? I used a mop today but, the floor has to dry, doesn't it?
(C) Marijo Phelps all rights reserved. Use with with proper credits.
Marijo Phelps,saved by Jesus grace in 1974, from 9 years atheism into His loving arms. She is wanting to spread the good news about His redemptive plan for our lives through written media. Her name is pronounced Mary Jo. She was an RN for 23+ years, missionary with YWAM,statistical analyst for Every Home for Christ 9 years. Her first poem published when she was four years old. (her mom had much to do with that!) She has been writing ever since.
Her new blog can be found: http://myincrediblelord.blogspot.com
Her new blog can be found: http://myincrediblelord.blogspot.com
This Article has been viewed 1,784 times. (Not updated in real-time.)
Top-level comments on this article: (7 total)Butt dust? That's a new one. You know what's funny? I do use Q Tips to clean that little area your hubby so kindly pointed out to you. :) Fun article Mariijo.Yes, that was a new one to me too! Thanks for reading and commenting, Brianna. Marijo
Marijo, this is hilarious! I've heard of marrying your father, but I think you are the first who actually married her mother. ha!!! Thanks for this funny. I needed it today! Hugs, TeresaHope you got your piece written! Thanks for taking time to read this - know you are very BUSY! Marijo
Hi, Marijo, I'm glad to read your writing. Intriguing title and fun read with a practical message that many of us get. I wanted to reply to a comment you left me, but there is not "respond to this comment" option with it and I think if I wrote a general comment it would not reach you. Thanks for reading my stuff too. I have a good friend who was with YWAM too. That's how I learned more about them. God bless you. ~JeanI have much writing on World Wide Bible Studies - a devotional in the making would be my Words from the Lord series. Have really enjoyed focusing on that and learn each time I re-read. This piece was a fun one to write and oh, so, true... Thanks for reading this! Was in YWAM in Texas in 1984-85 - some of the best times of my life! Marijo
hi marijo,thais article was really interesting. it had a lot of different characters and parts, and was reminiscent and funny. thnks foir sharing your memories with us.my best regards,sueAppreciate your reading and commenting on this piece, Sue. Marijo
Ah, the old "butt dust" dilemma!Funny stuff!!My hubby is a Texan and sometimes they have interesting and very descriptive wordings! Thanks for reading this, Ken.
Great article. Well done.I'll be impressed if you can mop worse than me. When I last had to mop I spilled the mop bucket on the kitchen floor. Then moved the water over the floor and then used the mop to "sweep" the excess water out the door. It worked and by next week you would have never known I'd mopped and that is not because the floor is dirty.How funny - sounds like you might have a story to tell here.... I put the water in a snap top plastic thing-y. And the wood floor cleaner - it is practically "Marijo Proof" since it is way deep and only about 2 inches of water plus in the bottom. I know how I am....Marijo thanks for reading this and youe comments!
Thanks for suggesting I read this Marijo. Very funny article. I had a Mother Immaculate too and I grew up to be her. OCD big time but I've worked myself past that now. I can actually NOT clean for a day.BlessingsHum, neither my sister or I became Mom and she took many opportunities to give hints about that GRIN Thanks for coming by!
We want your comments! If you can read this, you don't have javascript enabled, so you can't use this comment system. Please enable javascript.