The summer vacationers snatched away our serenity and cleaning help
The bungalow was a mess. Shani’s pajamas, Bini’s blankie, Yoni’s socks from the past week. Paper cups, leftover cereal bowls, Daniel’s Clics. Food wrappers and an overflowing garbage bag (we needed to buy a garbage can already!). Four books, three sandals in different sizes, a few pages torn out of some magazine, a melting Popsicle, a trail of broken potato chips.
I took one breath, then another. Four minutes until I had to leave for camp. Four minutes to change into a wig, put on some eyeliner and lipstick, grab some lunch (forget about breakfast). How could four minutes stretch to putting this place into some semblance of order? But what were my options? Leave it for when the kids came back? Try to cook supper surrounded by cranky children and sticky breakfast remains? I needed to do laundry.
But laundry, apparently, was not fated to happen. Like it didn’t happen yesterday. Or the day before.
I thought wistfully of Claudia, my dependable cleaning lady back home. She came every day, knew her routine, was on top of the laundry and the straightening up and the deep cleaning and the linen. I needed Claudia. I needed help. I was working full days as a day camp director, had six kids with me in the country, and my husband tended to turn up in the last few minutes before candle-lighting on Erev Shabbos.
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