Just say the phrase “spring cleaning” and my eyes glaze over, my head starts throbbing and my stomach twists into a knot. I hate it. Yet, the folks at Ikea seem to think this annual chore is something straight from a fairy tale. I’m still wishing upon a star, waiting for this dream to come true.
Even Harry Potter can’t do this
Listen, Ikea — I’m no wizard. I don’t have a magic wand. I have two kids, a hungry husband and a dirty house, and this fantasy land you’ve imagined just simply doesn’t exist. Though closing the door on my pantry is magic. At least it hides the mess.
Please give me that remote
Speaking of magic wands, please tell me where I can get one of these magical remotes you seem to believe exist. I want one and I want it now. And if it’s possible, can I have two more for the kids, another for my husband and one I can train the dog to use, too? Getting my sanity back at the press of a button — now that sounds like a dream come true!
You’re only telling half of the story
OK, you almost got me, but I’m onto you already. Anything that ends with a “ta-da” hand gesture is only telling half of the story. Sure, those nifty storage bins will tidy up my sock drawer… for a day. But give me 48 more hours and I’ll have things right back to the way I like them, cluttered, disorganized and chaotic, just like a game of hide-and-seek. It’s a game I play every day, and it makes me feel victorious.
Are these fairies or something?
This looks vaguely familiar for some reason. Oh, that’s right! It must be that cleaning scene from Sleeping Beauty where the fairies use their sparkle dust and the broom sweeps the floor by itself, with the mop trailing right behind it. In real life, the “sparkle dust” is the glitter and glue my children have poured all over the floor, and I’m scraping it off the tile with a razor blade and toothbrush.
Just how many helpers do you have, exactly?
OK, I’ve never seen this many bodies in my kitchen without the promise of food. And helping to clean? You’ve got to be joking. I’ll admit, I stared enviously at this image for much longer than I should have. I showed it to my husband and he laughed. I showed it to my children, and they asked me for a sandwich. And then, I cried over my broken dreams.