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Jewish World Review March 10, 2005 / 29 Adar I, 5765 Come do up my house, Diva By Lenore Skenazy
http://www.JewishWorldReview.com |
As Martha Stewart begins her five months of house arrest, I have only one request: Let the house be mine!
Martha, my apartment needs you way more than that Westchester estate does. My medicine cabinet needs you. (How many decades does Kaopectate stay fresh?) My living room needs you. (How do you get "Star Wars" stickers off a piano?) And I have a feeling my sticky plastic tablecloth needs you, too. (Don't tell me, I know: I've got to start wiping it. Right? Isn't that your little trick?)
So let's just say I'll expect you around noon. And don't worry, I'll have a home-cooked meal waiting for you: a piping hot Eggo waffle!
Now, in the tradition of those women who clean their homes before the cleaning lady comes, I picked up a copy of your "Good Things for Organizing," filled as it is with "150 solutions for a clean and clutter-free home." I figured if I could get my home as bright as the cover photo of your mud room (by the way — where's the mud?), maybe you'd really consider becoming my roomie.
But then I started reading that I should begin by welding casters to the bottom of a large tin bin to make a rolling boot caddy, and I got a little leery.
I mean, can't we agree that boots belong on the floor, next to the hats, the better for one-stop dressing? I'm sure you see my point. But you know what? We can compromise.
I'm also wondering about your simple solutions for bathroom cleanliness. You say that to kill the fuzzy black stuff I'd have to "use a spare towel or squeegee to wipe off excess moisture after the last shower," but I'm thinking: Really? Use that squeegee I found under the FDR Drive? Well — I'm open!
I guess once you arrive we'll just learn to live with each other's little foibles. Like, while you're cleaning my grout with a toothbrush and baking soda, I'll be stomping the Trix under the table so they turn into dust, which is much harder to see.
Feel free to print that trick in your next magazine!
And while you're gently spray-washing my house plants by placing them in the tub (well, house PLANT, anyway), I'll bring the Bounty into the bathroom and we can tear it into little sheets until I get more toilet paper.
And then, while you're flipping my mattress because, according to your completely INSANE instructions, a mattress should be flipped FOUR TIMES A YEAR, I'll just flip out MYSELF and start yanking the fluff out of my Martha Stewart pillows. Yeah! And dunking it in last night's broiling pan sludge and glue-gunning the glob to my fridge. Try wiping THAT off, Little Miss Perfect!
Who invited you here, anyway? Get out before I take my best scarf and instead of using a fine-tooth comb to catch any pills I take it and wrap it around your —
Oh, wait a sec. I'm sorry! I think I was just getting a little nervous about your visit. Please don't be put off! I still can't wait to see you!
And neither can whatever it is that's growing under my toilet.
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