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I live with three men. And they never seem to see (or smell, for that sake), if the bathroom is dirty. Or the kitchen. Or any other room.
I have to ask my husband or one of my sons to clean the bathroom. Actually, if that´s what I ask, the only thing that happens is that the mop is swooshed over the floor and that´s it. So I have to ask: can you empty the bins in the bathroom and put in new garbage bags, pour some chlorine into the toilet and brush (with the brush that you´ll find on the floor right to the toilet) until all shit has gone, wipe off the seat, clean the sink and the tap, polish the mirror, add new toilet paper, throw the dirty towels in the dirty laundry bin, replace with clean towels, dust the lamps and wash the shower curtain. And then, then can you mop the floor.
The other night, a guest was sleeping on a spare mattress in one of the rooms, the spare mattress coming from our sofa. My husband, being asked, carries the mattress back to the living room and leaves it there. So that it can fly onto the bench itself and fluff and place all the pillows nicely on its top, all on its own. Very clever mattress.
Today I asked him to hang the towels I had just washed. He did. And left the rest of the newly washed clothes in the laundry basket - so that they could fly up and hang themselves to dry all by themselves. Very clever washed clothes, too.
When my son is asked to clean the plates he cleans the plates.
And leaves the forks, knives, pots and pans.
(The plates are spotless, though, I must admit that).
This week I have been really busy - in a nice way - arrangingi a workshop in my B&B. I run from one thing to another and things at home are pretty much upside down. For instance, I haven´t always had time to clean up the kitchen after I have cooked before I run off to the restaurant.
But I am the only one who cares!
Seriously, none of the men I live with seems to be bothered that dirty plates and casseroles fill the kitchen counter, that there are spills on the floor and oven, and that the garbage bin is overflowing.
Which leads me back to the question:
Do you need a vagina to see if the toilet is dirty?
Or are the men I live with pigs?
Inputs greatly appreciated.
Tove
My Fabulous Life in Greece
Tove Cecilie Fasting is a published writer of several books, and also runs a Bed and Breakfast in a small village in Greece.
