I was sitting at the table relaxing and having breakfast when L comes in and cuts the TV off (???) and says “let’s clean”
I’ve never wanted to choke on Corn Pops (highly underrated cereal btw!) before but for that moment I swear I felt my throat tighten. I actually thought for a second about running out of the house. But I wasn’t dressed properly (sweatpants and 100 humidity don’t mix).
I wasn’t given instructions on what to clean exactly so I kind of wandered about for ten minutes and attempted to look busy. then I decided to vacuum (always a safe option). I also knew the kitchen was off limits, because that’s where L was.
Towards the end of my vacuum session, L comes over to help (or atleast that’s what she would call it). Now, I am not sure of everyone elses definition of help, but mine is to aid in some productive way. L’s version of help is to completely takeover! At one point after I told her I was going to go around and vacuum around the floorboards, I see her on her hands and knees pulling crap out with her bare hands! (no gloves!)
I believe L said “get that stuff over here” and instead of pointing she grabs the vacuum and moves it to that area. I greeted that move with a loud “hey!“. She reluctantly let go.
Not even 2 minutes later, she grabs he vacuum again! “Hey! I got this” I tell her! “But, I wanna try.”
Suddenly she is three years old again and vacuuming is the roller-coaster of cleaning. So I give up control of the vacuum and assume (my first mistake) I am done here and mentally check out of the cleaning world.
A minute later, “Ok, I’m done“. L turns the vacuum off and goes and sits down. I guess I am back on the starting lineup. That was quick.
So…in two. Hours, I vacuumed the living room floor(that’s it). Probably 200 square feet of carpet. She, cleaned the bathroom (I still don’t know why there was dog hair caked on the walls, sorry L, I will file a report and start an investigation). Cleaned the kitchen (which is quite a task!) and did half of my job for me!
Then she tops off the cleaning session with, “when we get our own place, we will be cleaning way more often” (there’s that tightening in the throat again)
Something tells me my act of incompetency in the cleaning department won’t be tolerated for much longer.