Remember the smell of a brand new car? So nice and fresh? The dash are all shiny and free of dust; the carpets and car seats free of cookie crumbs? The car is so clean and new, you don't want to do anything to mess it up?
Well, the smell of a brand new house is a gazillion times better than that! And with that, the determination of not leaving a mess around is a gazillion times more also.
The Boy hosted Christmas Eve at his brand new spanking house. The only furniture in the house was his bed and the only electronic gadget was his tv and dvd player. Yep, there was no fridge. As I type this, there is still no fridge in his house. The Boy's "fridge" for the dinner was a small Walmart cooler with ice in it. And we only kept the drinks in there. And since there was no fridge, that meant that we had to do grocery shopping two hours before dinner was scheduled for. Grocery shopping at Safeway at 5pm on Christmas Eve is NOT A GOOD IDEA. I made the Boy wait in line while I went around collecting all the ingredients for a spaghetti dinner. By the time I got the last item, there were still five people in front of us. And let's just say all the other grocery shoppers were not in a festive mood either. I was squeezing between carts and people going in and out of rows and there was this one lady who actually slowed down and would not let me squeeze pass her to get to the bread aisle. I had to back track and go down the milk aisle and take the long way around.
Anyway, since the Boy's sister was not yet at his house by the time we returned with groceries, cooking dinner became my responsibility. Now, when the Boy is at my house, he does not interrupt me while I am cooking. And, most importantly, he leaves the dishes around, throws his socks and shoes whereever he wants, and pretty much leaves a trail of mess behind him. At his brand new house, however, the Boy becomes the Mr. Clean from hell.
"Quinny, you better make sure you don't splatter that oil on my brand new stove."
"Quinny, you better not spill the sauce all over the stove."
"Quinny, you better cover the stove rack with foil before you put that garlic bread on there."
"Quinny, I see oil splatters on the stove."
"Quinny, I see oil spots on the floor."
"If you keep Quinnying me I'm gonna throw this spaghetti sauce on your carpet! I'll wipe down everything with 401 after we're finished with dinner! Goodness you're crazy."
Once I finished cooking dinner, he made everyone huddle around the kitchen island to eat their spaghetti. His poor little nephew couldn't quite reach the counter and couldn't take his cookie back to the living room where the TV was either. The Boy almost had a heart attack when his nephew almost tripped with a can of Coke in his hand.
Mr. Clean from hell didn't stop there.
"Quinny, make sure you clean out the tub after your bath."
"Quinny, make sure you don't leave any water marks on the shower. Use the squiggee."
"Quinny, put your clothes in the closet. Don't make a pile on the floor."
Oh it wasn't just Quinny this and Quinny that all night. He did it to everyone.
"Take off your shoes! This is an Asian house now."
"Don't you leave my kitchen with that plate of food in your hands!"
"You better not give your son anything to throw in my house!"
"Stay away from the walls, I don't want you marking it up!"
So the Boy's family and I took a bet that his Mr. Clean tirade won't last longer than a month. But then we were wondering how the Boy will handle the situation when he rents out his house to complete strangers who will surely not give a damn about his brand new house.
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