Strategery

So yesterday (Thursday) I decided that the front of the fridge needed cleaning off. There were all kinds of old magnets that were out of date. (Hockey season's over - and we have a White Sox schedule from 2005!...Whaaaaat?) Plus it was just cluttered. So I took down all of the ricketa-racketa. The things I wanted to save I put into a baggie and put into the storage bin with that sort of thing. Then I got out the bleach cleaner, squirted it down and wiped it off.

Then, knowing I had an appointment to go to in an hour, I hopped into the bath tub for a soak. I heard Mike get home, greet the kitties and head into the kitchen to get a drink. Then there was a pause. Then he stuck his head in (smirking, of course) and said something like, "What's wrong with you? I smell bleach and the kitchen looks really good."

First of all, I thought, the smart ass doesn't have to act like it's a major event every time I clean something. Then it hit me. He smells the bleach and thinks I cleaned the whole kitchen. I mean it's basically clean most of the time anyway. He's just inherited the Sandy "out-out damn spot" syndrome which sadly renders its victim incapable of realizing something is actually clean. It's tragic really - I'm thinking of starting a telethon to raise money for a cure. Basically, I've decided, all I have to do is wait until about a half hour before he gets home from work and mix a bleach/water mixture in the sink. He'll smell it and assume I've cleaned. Awesome.

I wonder if that'd work for the bathroom?