Cleaning with Mrs. C. or A Home for Fonzie

We do things a little slow in these parts. Just today we undertook our much needed spring cleaning. As a matter of fact, I am writing this post from our self-imposed exile on the porch while our carpet is being cleaned. Just me, the wife, two kids, some dogs and my body weight in Wienerschnitzel. Der.

It’s funny the things you find when you deep clean; popcorn in the couch, forgotten bills, bats in the belfry, blood on the wall, you know- stuff. I thought that I had found Jimmy Hoffa in the pantry, behind the mac and cheese that had expired (who knew it expired?) but it turned out to be a bottle of Aunt Jemima.

I took some liquid nail to the 1950’s exposed wiring that nobody ever noticed until Zane started yanking it from the wall, and put some caulking in the hole left over from the guys that installed the surround sound. I know that isn’t news, but caulking a hole sounds funny to me, almost dirty, like the word “manhole” and of course the subsequent “manhole cover”.

That said, the porch feels smaller now, and a bit cozier than I recalled. It has easy access to the washer and dryer, the playroom and the beer-stocked refrigerator. Maybe after we put the house back together I can rent this space out. I know Aunt Jemima is in the market.

Wanted: single dog and pancake lover for cozy ill-lit space. $1500 a month. Free laundry usage (must do landlords too). Must be okay with loud kids and beer induced pantlessness. Passion for cleanliness a plus. Motorcycle parking optional.

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