Somebody call the Cake Boss. It's on. |
My birthday is this week: April 16th.
That's right. I'll be 29.
(Shut up!)
So on this monumentous occasion, let’s talk
about what everyone wants to know about:
My new maid.
I have a new maid. She also works for
several of my friends and I have heard nothing but good things about her. They’ve told me that she is very thorough and
detailed.
I’ve worked with a lot of house-helpers
over the past 18 years in Kuwait. I try
to get on the same page with them all and type out all the instructions (for
everything I can think of) and even do diagrams. I go over it in the beginning so that we are
both in agreement. It is a long list and
I don’t expect anyone to accomplish it all in one day, but it is out there so
when time permits it can all be done and they know what I expect, when I will
pay them, and how much (including overtime).
Since last maid-lady let the dog out, I
have turned to the assistance of this new lady; her name is “Sassy” and it
suits her. The first day, I scared Sassy
away. I met with her once and told her
that I would have a list of tasks. She
thought that she had to do them all the same day. Not. She sent me an SMS, “Too much work,
Madame! I’m leaving, going home.
Goodbye.” Oh nooooooo.... I called her and after a 30 minute talk (me
begging, basically) we came to an agreement.
She was very very upset that my Hoover was broken and that I didn’t have
a mop (I prefer cleaning cloths over squeegys). Went on and on about that issue. I said I would buy her a mop - any kind of mop she wanted.
Me: ‘What kind of a mop?’
Sassy: “A normal mop, Madame.”
Me: ‘Stop calling me, Madame, and “normal” to you
might not be the same as “normal” to me.
Can you send me a picture?’
So she did (well, Spanx did after I frantically texted her asking her to.) Just what I suspected: One of
those skank cotton white mops of yester-year.
Yuk. I hate them. They get full of bacteria and get
stinky. Ew. I can smell it now.
I went out specifically in search of the specified
mop. I did find the right mop and mop replacement heads; I bought about 6, I'm
not havin no stanky mops around... I was concerned about finding the “appropriate”
mop: Spanx told me that she bought
2 mops before getting the right one that was Sassy-approved. I told the salesman at the store that I
needed the right mop because otherwise I would get in trouble with my maid and
I'm afraid of her. They got a good giggle out of it. (Not funny. It's true.)
I had to take my Hoover to get fixed (I don’t
use it – howmasupposedtoknow when someone else breaks it and doesn’t tell me? Why can’t they just tell me?). I had to shove the thing into my Camaro (not easy), lug the thing to the fixer dudes - then shove it back into the Camaro and get it home. Waaaaa. I also went out
to buy a B&D Dust Buster so Sassy wouldn’t have to tell me to go get one (I saw that coming.) I actually love my dust buster and I'm using it every day, so I secretly thank her.
Sassy came back over
the weekend. (Late, but hey that's fine because I'm catering to her
now.)
‘I put the list in the
drawer so it wouldn’t frighten you, ok?’
She about 5 hours
cleaning my house. She is very thorough. I was so pleased that she approved of my
purchases! “Oh, that is a nice bucket. I didn’t send you a picture of the
bucket. I forgot.” (Yessssssssss! Score Desert Girl! You got the right
bucket! It’s on!) She didn’t like the Dust Buster so much,
but the Hoover was fine and she approved the mops. I bought 4 different types of floor
cleaning fluids and she never said anything about them, but was a little miffed
that I didn’t have Pledge or Jif (“Power” – I don’t know what that is. I have to go back to the store).
“Very powerful,
Madame.”
‘Stop calling me
Madame, ok? What is that stuff? Is it
like bleach?’
“OH! You have bleach, madame?” (said with glee)
Oh God, here we
go. My house is going to smell like
bleach trying to kill bacteria from nasty, skanky mops. Great.
I never actually left my house when she was there. I cleaned right along with her and managed to
finally sort out my closets and get rid of some unwanted clothes and wire
hangers.
I HATE wire hangers! They
ruin your clothes. When my dad died –
God rest his soul – he had nothing but wooden hangers in his closet; some of which appeared to be 40-50 years old.
All his clothes were neat and tidy. I
want to be like him when I grow up.
So, the adventure begins. I have nothing better to talk about on
Birthday Week than the new maid and maybe some anecdotal stories about my
dog. Sad and pathetic, really.
LMAO. Rose DAC is the way to go definitely not bleach or God forbid Dettol. You'll thank me later.
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