I was stuck in our condo, alone with my big bro. Then mom calls, saying she was on her way. Before she hung up, she had one request: the condo better be clean. Uh-oh.
My mom is a total nitpick for cleanliness. I swear she has this obsessive compulsive thing going on. I guess our cleaning prowess will never compare to her. It's like getting a visit from the Board of Health!! We had five hours to do the job.
My bro makes a deal with me. He cleans the whole condo while I take care of the kitchen. It was no big deal really- our condo is quite small. Almost like a singles hotel bedroom except a kitchen and living room managed to squeeze in. Studio type.
Before I conquered the kitchen, I made him get rid of the maggot-infested rice that was 3-days-old. My brother's that disgusting even with an excellent academic record (I have a hinky feeling he's trying to breed flies).
I stare at the pots, plates, and glasses piled on the sink. Oh brother. I am SO not looking forward to living in with my sib. I just suck it up and turn on the tap.
While the dishes were soaked, I waged battle with oil, grease and crumbs from our electric oven/grill. (Would it kill my brother to clean the grill???) I threw out some trash, swept the kitchen floor and wiped the counter. Then there was a funky smell coming from one of my bro's chocolate covered cookies (he used to sell them for a project) and I begged he get rid of the mold- sprinkled snack. Ick. Ick. Ick. How does he put up with all of this chaos???!!
When my mom finally arrived, she sighed with relief. But the relief didn't last long.
She said the floor was sticky and dirty (sticky??).
The toilet apparently needs more scrubbing.
The carpet needs to be aired.
Why do I bother?