Man-clean

Women everywhere are going to nod their heads along with this blog and know exactly what I am talking about. Men who think they are the exception are going to protest and try and say they are the exception. They are wrong. All the other men will be offended, but don't worry...We aren't laughing at you....we are laughing with you....really.

One of the universal truths is that there is 'man-clean' and 'woman-clean'. This is most evident in single men households because married or cohabiting men likely have a woman going behind and making all the corners 'woman-clean' and the man just doesn't notice. However, if you were to go into a single man's home and venture that it needed a good clean he would likely be confused, thinking it is already clean. But really now...every man's house is simply waiting, begging really, for a woman to come take care of it.

Chet's apartment? No different. The walls whisper to me when I walk in, even lean a little my way like a kitten leans into your body when you pet it - that is how happy they are that a woman has walked in. They want to cuddle and purr on me. As I walk down the hall they offer suggestions; paint us a pretty color, please dust that crazy glass shelving unit, bring in wooden spoons and kitchen gadgets for the lonely kitchen....

Chet is actually, for a man, pretty clean. He understands that when he runs out of clean dishes he needs to wash them. He owns cleaning products and scrub brushes. He half heartedly makes the bed at least half of the time. For a while, he even met my anti-clutter standards. For a little while. So I was hopeful that if I brought home tools for him - he would use them. I set off for Meijers in high spirits on a sunny Saturday afternoon when Chet was at work. I smiled a little as I selected the full size cart because I could just see it full of home organization and heart warming cleaning paraphernalia. I may have even been humming the Mr. Clean jingle as I skipped along the home decor/kitchen aisles. The result of this shopping trip? A towel hamper and laundry basket for the bathroom in the hopes that dirty stuff would be sorted and contained. A dish scrubby brush and drying rack so that we can do dishes as we use them. Pretty, environmental friendly cleaning products - including disinfectant wipes that I go through like candy. (Aren't they seriously the best home cleaning toy invented this decade? Tell me I'm not wrong!)

So I happily loaded up my Jeep with my fun new purchases, headed back to Chet's apartment, and spent my Saturday afternoon cleaning and organizing - anticipating how excited Chet would be to see how smart I was, setting up this easy system for keeping things in the right place. This was the response I got once Chet got home and walked around the apartment for a few minutes: "ummmm....did you buy me a hamper?" Those were the words that were said but here is what they really meant: "ummm....did you really just buy this shiny, new rubbermaid thing and stick it in the corner where I like to pile my towels? It is hurting my eyes to look at it and I don't know if I can pee in the room with it watching me."

I did get a thank you for cleaning the apartment and then he went back off to work, probably grateful to get out before I exposed him to more new-tupperware fumes. Still, I held out hope that he would play nice and make friends with the new toys. Housewives everywhere are laughing at me right now, but I am an optimist. Laugh if you must. And it did half work. When I came over the next day the dirty clothes and towels were sorted into piles......two inches OUTSIDE their respective hampers.