Indentured servants #1

I like the idea of having a housekeeper, someone who comes in to my home and cleans it for me while I'm having a fabulous lunch with The Girls after a relaxing mani/pedi.

Except I don't mani/pedi very often.

I have some Girls, but we don't Lunch.

I don't trust anyone to be unattended in my home.

What if they look in my underwear drawer and find the special Tooth Fairy glitter bag and steal all my babies' baby teeth? What if they reorganize my kitchen and I can't find my very best silicone whisk from Ikea? What if they use the wrong cleaner on everything and eat the finish off my beloved granite counter tops? What if they break one of the enormous posters off my four poster bed?

That's the one that did it for me.

Seriously.

That's the real one. And, no apology. No, "By the way I broke your BED"! Nope. Just walked into the bedroom after she was gone & there it was, on the floor.

It was just a little help after baby & c-section #4, until I could, you know, stand up straight and all. Much less nurse a baby every 4.5 minutes. Anyway, that was the last time I have had anyone clean my house. Anyone PROFESSIONAL, that is...

I have servants. Four of them. Granted, they don't do a fabulous job, but they do work pretty cheaply. I feed them. I take them to school and soccer and baseball and gymnastics and sleepovers and birthday parties. I buy them clothes. I let them watch my tv. I don't think it's unreasonable for them to offer some sort of remuneration.

Here are two in action:

They are cleaning windows. Just the parts they can reach. Those, coincidentally, are the parts with the fingerprints and nose prints and forehead prints. Look at those happy faces. They are so happy to have a spray bottle and an old cloth diaper as a rag.

They wanted to work some more, so on to baseboards!

Oh, wait, they're calling me... Yes, Darlings, you may clean the kitchen table and chairs. Just make sure those baseboards are really clean first. I'm going to go work on my bunion callus.