It’s a scientific fact that men have no idea how to clean.
Sure, we pretend to know what we’re doing. But deep down, there’s an admission to be made. We have absolutely no ability in anything that involves making a room look sharper.
There may be a few exceptions out there. I just don’t know who they are.
This has been brought home to me of late. I am more aware than ever that I’m missing the part of the brain that dictates sparkling cleanliness.
It’s important to point out here the difference between tidy and spotless. Tidy is easy. Swing a broom, wipe some plates, straighten the bed. Fully acceptable, in a man’s world.
Spotless, however, is what women do so well. For us, it’s a place that’s a universe away. And we don’t have the map.
It’s always been so. Many moons ago, when I shared a house with similar-minded young men, it’s fair to say that our cleaning cupboard was rarely visited. There was little use, because it was empty.
That’s right. Not a mop to bless ourselves with. The only bucket we had came with fried chicken in it.
Someone would clean the dishes every now and then. Usually when we ran out of plates. We washed when we ran out of clothes. If we had an iron, I have no memory of where it was kept.
Nowhere was the disaster zone worse than in the bathroom. It should have had official warnings on the door. Things were growing in there. And being the carefree lads that we were, we didn’t care.
Not once did we buy a bathroom cleaning product. Not a spray to be seen. We should have been struck down by all manner of illness and disease. But we survived. Today, they’d make a reality show about it.
I should point out here that I have improved since those grimy days. Now, the place is nice and … tidy.
I have a bucket, and mop, and broom, and duster. Even an old vacuum cleaner, that does little more than give me a sore back.
The bathroom cabinet now has basin wipes, and shower cleaner, and tile scrub, and other stuff I don’t understand.
Once a week, they all get a run. Enough to make things pleasant.
But try as I might, the shower always has one or two marks left in it. And I can never get to EVERY bit of dust.
I can’t complain. Not spotless, but tidy. It’s a man thing. If someone finds that map, let me know.
Hold All Tickets 