Wednesday, April 12, 2006

A Moment of Bliss

I glanced out the window not long ago to see an extra-long white van come roaring into the driveway. As if on cue, the doors all opened at the same time, unleashing an army of white-clad maids, each with a broom or mop or bucket in hand. My heart leapt. Visions of sparkling glass and counters, dust-free shelves and gleaming floors danced in my head. "Hallelujah! It's Christmas!" I wanted to shout.

Alas, it's only Wednesday. This particular Christmas wasn't scheduled to arrive until Thursday. Tomorrow. Another 24 hours to wait for my once-again spotless home, as temporary a condition as that may be. I must admit, I was torn: They were here, who not do it today? Surely we could go somewhere for a bit. But not ten minutes before, Charlotte had started rubbing her eyes and fussing for yet another nap. And because we had hosted playgroup yesterday, there was not a single uncluttered surface and I have yet to find the playroom floor.

Bliss will have to wait. In the meantime, I need to go move a few piles of books and magazines and toys.

1 comment:

Jeffrey Leonard said...

That is a good plan: invite the maids after the play group! One day we will have robots and everyday will be a 'sparkling house' day. The robots won't have to roll up in the white van either.

When you first wrote about the white van pulling up and all the doors flying open I thought you were going to say that Jack Bauer and Curtis were jumping out to bust into your house to stop some conspiracy you were planning! But, alas, it was only the maids