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Cleaning Girl

Durga Girl

Dear Diary,

It’s that time of year again. The sun is out, the birds are singing and half of my Mother-in-laws belongings have disappeared into thin air thus signaling the need for the Spring Cleanse. We go through this little house cleaning ritual of Ruth’s room over at Happy Daze Assisted Living (floor ROAM) at the time when I notice a great deal of repetition in our attire from day to day. With dementia a girl may forget a lot of things, but she NEVER forgets what she wore the day before and will N E V E R do a repeat (i.e. “I really love my..” section in In Style Magazine). To be caught wearing the same exact pants and blouse two or three days in a ROW? Well, I can’t even go there. No. It has to be something a bit more sinister. Maybe..And it pains me to say this—Thievery. I’m not one to point fingers but I have noticed Marion eyeing with longing Ruth’s Purple Bomber Jacket. I could be wrong. Cripes. It could be Marion is just experiencing a random flare up of flatulence. Look at Lena. Sitting there all quiet and demure at age 91. Let me tell you about this fierce competitor Lena. If it’s cute and THIS season..no amount of Sharpie permanent Marker will stand in the way of illegal acquisition by her sneaky tactics. “Oh this isn’t mine? Why..I have one almost just like it. I think my MOTHER bought it for me.”

I decide the best way to proceed with the “cleaning” is to have Ruth chillax on the bed, out of my way. She can catch up on the May issue of Town and Country and I can search every nook and cranny of her 50 square foot boudoir without her well intentioned assistance.

“What are you doing in there anyway?” Ruth calls out.

She’s glanced up from her mag. long enough to observe me un-zipping her fabric “Never in a million years will I fit back into this” clothing storage bag and tossing size 6 Oscar D. sequined jackets and skirts on to the floor all hari kari. Smart woman Ruth. Didn’t say a W-O-R-D. Almost. “Do you think YOU could fit into any of THAT?”

ME (holding up a beige spandex lace tank): “Probably not. But, I’m thinking this would look nice when I go to a “strip club”. I’ll pair it with THESE (Waving around Gold lame leggings).

RUTH: You have plans?

As I dug down further and further I started to find all kinds of lost artifacts from days of yore. Truly I get chills , recounting the moment I found the stolen lost expensive Target gloves she got two years ago as a birthday gift. We could have cried for joy. One thing after another all smooshed in the bottom of the bag emerged. The missing pajama bottoms the staff had told ME she had flushed down the toilet. Ha! Here they were. Dozens of balled up socks, slips and sweaters (with the tissues and mints still in the pockets) hats, scarves and hand lotion. Oh happy day.

Next I moved into the bathroom. As sweet as the cleaning staff is at Happy Daze, their cleaning abilities are at best comparable to my boys swinging a wet rag around trying to get Club Penguin computer privileges in under ten minutes time. I start looking for something to clean off the counter tops and settled for the green box of Hygienic personal cleansing wipes to give me the high luster shine I was looking for. This brings me back to the time that I signed up for one of those test marketing groups and I was given boxes of personal wipes to test. Are you kidding? I used them for the kids sticky hands’ and faces’ and to wipe down my car interiors. Made fifty bucks doing it. They worked great. For the sink, too.

Ruth starts talking to me as I’m under the bed fishing out lost earrings. I hear her say:

“Oh, I see they’re showing pearls again with everything. What ever happened to all my nice strands of pearls I wonder?”

Ga. How I loathe these pop quizzes. I just mumbled something about looking next in the potpourri bowl.

It was a very successful cleanse. I recovered all previously mentioned “stolen” goods with just a few exceptions. I didn’t find the purple jacket so the plan is— I’m going in to Marion’s closet when she’s downstairs at sing-a-long time. Ruth will distract her long enough so I can do a thorough search and rescue. If for some weird reason, they get done early and come back up, Ruth and I have devised a secret code to warn me of imminent danger. She’s going to “accidentally” spill something on Marion and then ask Marion if she wants to pick something out of her closet to “borrow”. What woman in her right mind would turn down an opportunity of a lifetime like that? Then when Marion is in Ruth’s room changing, out into the hallway comes Ruth shouting “cheese dip”, “cheese dip” to alert me. Only one tiny, itsy bitsy problem. Ruth could possibly forget the whole “code red” protocol and I’ll get cornered in Marion’s room and pegged a thief.  I’ll take the risk. It was a very cute jacket.

My Sandwich Generation compatriots, I now how you L-O-V-E to clean. Pleeezee. The great feeling of accomplishment and recognition for doing such a deed is staggering. Still..Somebody has to do it. Think of it as being on an Archeological dig. You could find some very rare and priceless treasures to make it all worthwhile.

Have a smooth cleanse.

A

Above Photo by: Ruth

Posted in Uncategorized 8 years, 1 month ago at 9:18 pm.

1 comment

One Reply

  1. Everything dynamic and very positively! :)
    Have a nice day