I know I have mentioned before that I am not the most vigilant of housekeepers.
I'm really not. And on the big list of things that annoy my husband, I know it's in the top five. But I don't care. I prefer spending the time with the kids, or said hubby; not obsessing over whether or not I've changed the sheets, swept the floor, cleaned the bathroom....my house isn't a pit, it's...lived in.
Today, the a/c needed the semiannual checkup, and I was ready when the guy arrived: "Dogs are in the house, the unit is on the side of the house in the backyard, the gate is open."
He hesitated, and I was thinking that perhaps I was looking more fetching than I thought as I'd changed out of my pajamas. The awkward pause lengthened, however, and I started wondering if maybe he just didn't hear me.
"I need to come inside," he said, breaking the silence, "and look at the thermostat and the air filter first."
Oh, great. The air filter. Which, in a perfect world, we change at least once a month. Which, in a perfect world, lies strictly on the "man" side of the household chore equation. Which, in a perfect world, I'd have a spare of, ready to be put into place.
The fact that I woke up the last couple of days with the grossest stuffy nose ever would lead me to believe that the filter was not gonna be clean, but I motioned for him to follow me anyway.
As we made our way down the hall to the register, I actually started defending myself that we do indeed change it monthly, and that "it might be a little bit dirty."
I bit my lip and turned away when the little cloud of dust floated down from the register onto the guy's head upon opening it up.
There is just no defending that. I took my mini-lecture like a good sport, and made a mental note to share the joy with Mr W the first chance I got.
The shame I bear is only second to that of when one of the little boys, the brothers who come to play with my boys, let it slip that his mother makes his brother take a shower after they leave our house as "he gets all full of cat (pet) hair." Oh, come on, I thought. They're boys, they get dirty, why does a little whatever hair make such a difference?
I think I vacuumed every day for about three weeks after that. I still vacuum before they come over each time now.
Home Depot, here I come.