Remember that time when you decided to join the local golf club, and out of some atypical dose of marital courtesy (more commonly recognised as guilt) you decided to discuss your decision with me, just prior to signing half our joint annual income away in exhorbitant membership fees, on another laughable sports fad?
But I didn’t laugh, (out loud) because I respected your decision to join as it was obviously important to you, and being the understanding wife-let that I am, I realise the importance to you of being able to let off steam by snapping your golf shafts and swearing loudly from green to green on your way around your ‘up-its-own-arse’ golf club.
So I am now approaching you in the same mature way to ‘discuss’ my chances the idea of US hiring a cleaner, a topic that has reared its ugly head been tabled several times already in our marriage, but which now needs re-airing.
The following are my pleas reasons and justification:
I do sense that I am perceived as a bit of a ‘wagger’ with my three day ‘official’ working week, even though in my defence I would argue that my real number of work days is closer to six. You see, when I spend my ‘days off’ (as well as most of my evenings and a good part of my weekends), in the act of writing, (ie. creating what I hope will one day turn into a profitable business), I am not actually brunching, exfoliating, chit-chatting or swanning around the shops. I have A DISTINCT GOAL IN MIND. Which unfortunately doesn’t leave a lot of time for me to clean, hence, I need a cleaner.
In addition to my six day work week, my half of our (theoretically) ‘shared’ domestic schedule seems to incorporate full supervision of the teenagers. And although you have helpfully pointed out that ‘they can look after themselves now’; they don’t. They don’t eat if I don’t cook for them, neither can identify the location of the laundry, their rooms are turning into a cockroach breeding ground and one of them needs full time supervision just to eliminate the very high risk of him ending up in prison. Another reason why I need a cleaner.
I organise all the family holidays as well as your boy-bonding breaks, the school administration and its ongoing issues (with aforementioned jailbait), the house renovations and endless repairs (that you are unable to do). Which is why I really need a cleaner.
And then there’s the cleaning itself. I won’t stifle you with the detail of what this involves (I can already see your eyes glazing over) but what I will say is that your work shirts are a bitch to iron, the bed-linen does get changed and no, I really don’t enjoy cleaning urine splash from bathroom floors. The interminable washing cycle is a management project in itself to which I could sacrifice half my week if it let me. We have a son who changes his clothes three times a day (in spite of only showering once a week), who fervently believes that putting clothes away means putting them in the wash basket. I can spend two hours a week simply matching socks. I NEED A CLEANER.
I admit that the house is superficially clean, but it is innately filthy and sometimes when even I resort to pushing something under the sofa (rather than putting it away), I am appalled. If your mother witnessed the Dust Mountains accumulating on our skirting boards, she might even be tempted to move in. Which is why we both need a cleaner.
Furthermore, as all canine duties have now been successfully allocated to me (because I am obviously just too damn good at my job), I am also fully accountable for the dog not croaking it from a paralysis tick bite as well as getting a good walk each day. So a cleaner would really help your dog.
Have you considered that some of my nagging might abate if the house was ever clean? The state of the house really does affect my general outlook on life, a bit like sports results do you. Please get me a f*cking cleaner.
I would have more time to focus on you if I had a cleaner, I would have more time to entertain the ADHDer at the weekend, which would mean that you could spend even more ‘quality’ family time languishing on the sofa watching golf (while everyone works around you). C.L.E.A.N.E.R N.O.W!
I realise that a cleaner is a luxury ticket item and we only splash out on luxuries when they affect you personally, and I have taken on board your suggestion of cancelling our sponsored African child as a cost-cutting exercise, but the kids were a bit upset by that and we’re not really on the poverty line yet.
I truly believe that this decision could ultimately work more in your favour than mine.
Imagine not having to search the house frantically for an ironed shirt at 6am on a Monday morning or opening a fridge that doesn’t waft last year’s Jungle Curry.
In fact the more I think about it, the more I think that this is one of the best ideas you’ve come up with in a long time.
Your loving wife.