Kind of funny about cleaning.
Moms View Message Board: General Discussion: Archive June 2004:
Kind of funny about cleaning.
This was in yesterday's paper..
My husband thinks that I avoid cleaning because it involves work. Not true. I avoid cleaning because it is fraught with hidden danger.
The problem with cleaning is that you find things - things you didn't know you had; things you didn't really want; things that, frankly, you would have paid money not to have seen.
I'm talking about stuff that truly can haunt you.
That's why, in our house, we no longer have to rent horror movies on DVD for a good scare; we simply peer into the deep recesses of the refrigerator.
In fact, during our recent (and yes, somewhat tardy) spring cleaning, I felt like I'd watched - or perhaps even starred in - several horror flicks, all from the comfort of my own home.
Here's what's been playing at my house. These films are not rated by the movie industry, but I'm guessing that Martha Stewart would find them more frightening than the prospect of six months in an orange jumpsuit.
"Silence of the Lamb Chop." An overcooked chop, chucked past the garbage pail three weeks ago, has taken up residence in a dark corner of my kitchen cabinet, quietly plotting its revenge.
"I Know What You Did Last Summer." You hid an open jar of salsa under the sofa - that's what you did! The man who cleaned our carpets today excavated it and had to call me in to ID the remains.
"Tales from the Crisper." A heart of romaine, lodged behind the crisper drawer for months, has grown more fur than Bigfoot. Other vegetables have been decomposing in fright.
"The Sixth Sense." I can see dead insects. They lie flattened on my floor, prone on my countertop, prostrate on my windowsill. Why can no one else see them?
"The Omen" (or, The "Oh, MAN!") A young girl knows, even before the nail polish hits the newly cleaned carpet, that she is grounded for the rest of her natural life.
"Halloween." The small pumpkin, sitting ignored on the bookshelf since last October, seems innocent enough. ... until you lift it.
"Scream." An adolescent girl, watching her mother lift the pumpkin, reacts in horror to What Lies Beneath. ...
"The Shining." New lighting in the foyer reveals a 360-degree panorama of grimy handprints covering the walls. The owners race out to purchase lower wattage.
Double Feature: "The Howling." Teenage children, asked by parents to sweep out the garage, make this eerie noise. Followed by "The Vanishing." The noise suddenly stops, and the parents discover that the children have mysteriously disappeared. They turn up days later eating ice cream at Hodgie's.
"The Green Mile." A fluorescent lime-green mold creeps across the rain-soaked deck, winding a trail down the stairs and onto the patio. The beleaguered couple considers painting everything - deck, patio, fence, grass - lime green to match.
"The Uninvited." Children are followed home by an army of friends in swimsuits who leave wet towels on the wood floors and crush Tostitos into the deck. The parents find that citronella is ineffective in repelling these pests. They try old Anne Murray records.
"The Ring." Every time she is asked to clean her room, an adolescent girl hears the phone ring; a voice tells her she has seven minutes to start instant messaging. ... or else.
"The Mummy." Disaster befalls an otherwise normal family when the person in charge of cleaning ("Mummy") rolls herself so tightly into her bed sheets that no one can find her.
"The Invisible Man." They know he's there ... from the footprints on the carpet, the empty shoes, the cast-off T-shirt, and the fact that car keys move inexplicably from one place to another. But why can they never find him when it's time to unload the dishwasher?
"Psycho." Myopic woman makes the fatal mistake of wearing her contact lenses while showering. She screams bloody murder as she sees for the first time what her bathtub looks like to people with normal eyesight.
"Misery." Freelance writer longs for an obsessed fan, but finally abandons her writing to go scour the bathtub.
In reviewing these films (three thumbs up!) and considering my vast experience with the cleaning-horror genre, I've been thinking of organizing my own Cannes-of-Worms Film Festival. Anyone who hyperventilates in the presence of a Swiffer is welcome. I'll even provide popcorn.
Just don't spill any on the floor, or you may see my head spin around.
RFL. That is too funny. Thank you for sharing that.
I love this!
That's a hoot.
That was really funny!!