We have some workers come to our house occasionally. I don’t know why I’m telling you they are workers — they are housekeepers, but that just sounds so pretentious and there is nothing I hate more than pretension.
At any rate, these ladies are good, trustworthy people and they do a good job. I kneel on my clean floor and worship at their feet. They help me keep my sanity and therefore I think they should be covered by insurance, but like Belgium chocolate or Pinot Grigio, they are not. And they should be. I should be able to get a prescription for them. Doseage: 3 nice ladies/1x a week. Take with cleaning products.
Where am I going with this?
Okay, that is to say. We don’t keep a lot of valuables around our house, but nonetheless I always
nag remind Antique Daddy when it’s housekeeper day and I tell him to be sure to remove his money clip from his vanity.
Not because I don’t totally trust “the workers” but because I believe that even good people can be tempted. And then, if something did go missing that would be bad and awkward and why not just avoid it all together and put your dang money up?
Last week when the housekeepers arrived, I let them in and Sean announces, “It’s housekeeper day! Better put your money up!”
After which I disintegrated into the dust from whence I came. Being the good housekeepers they are, they swept me up and then brushed their hands together three times in a manner that says “And that takes care of that!”
And now I’m seeking a prescription for perpetual embarrassment.
Aside: I am totally bothered that my 3-year-old is aware of and uses the phrase “housekeeper day.” Yet, not bothered enough to clean my house myself.