Growing up we had a housekeeper. There would be a few months a year where my parents would be all “You kids need chores & responsibilities we’re firing the housekeeper!” this was always met with groans & the proper amount of eye rolling but the 8 of us always knew it wouldn’t last very long at all. When my parents got sick of yelling at us to do something they would re-instate Ms. Gertie & there she would be every morning shuffling around in her little slippers, calling me Alice & forgetting to put cheese in the lasagna.
By the time I left home to go to Bible school cleaning was not my strong suit. Listen. I’m not dirty, funky or in need of a hoarders intervention. Far from it. But I’m a procrastinator so if a bathroom should be cleaned once a week I might do it once every 3rd month.
When I arrived at Bible school I was assigned kitchen duty.Shutter. It was everything I hated. They had a room where you washed dishes in that was always hot & smelled of ranch dressing. I swear that if you popped any of my pimples oozing out of them would be Hidden Valley’s best. I wasn’t very good at mopping & always traded someone that duty & the pot washing required you to dip your hands in a hot vat of bleach & I despise bleach.
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