My cleaner walked in this morning....Hi Ray.......very bourgeois to have a cleaner I know, but to be honest I'd rather go without food than lose Ray. I see it as Mr Beach House's contribution to the household chores, seeing as he does little else by way of housework round here. When I moved in with him all those years ago, Mr Beach House and Ray had already been together for years. Ray was initially employed to avoid the inevitable barneys over cleaning, that ensue as a result of twenty somethings flatting together. I believe Ray solved as many problems in those youthful relationships, as he does with our marriage.
When I moved in, I made noises in Mr Beach House's direction to the effect that, as I was working full time I wasn't going to be the 'new Ray' and take on the cleaning, so Ray stayed. I did try to wean us off him when we moved house....sorry Ray, but it didn't last. I found myself at an Enjo party around the same time as we moved. Basically I couldn't get out of there quick enough and the first call I made once I'd escaped, was to Ray giving him our new address. No offence to Enjo...great product....I'd just rather it in Ray's hands than mine.
So anyway....he walked in this morning and said. 'You didn't take my advice with the blog'....No probably not Ray I thought, as this is my girly space, 'What was it again?' 'You need something controversial on there' he said 'like marriage dramas'. 'Those ladders with flowers hanging off them, what the hell is that?' It seems Ray wants more juice. So Ray reads me, apparently he had a 'dull Easter' and found himself in front of my blog. This is not a new thing, he often gives me his candid thoughts on my stories. I enjoy our chats and consider it impromptu market research. But he hates the girly bits. Rather, he gets a kick out of it, when Mr Beach House and I don't see eye to eye and I spill the beans about it here.
Well I've got news for you Ray, you are part of the reason that we are OK. That we can survive this rocky road that is marriage. Give me a clean house and I can take just about anything. The resentment that builds, when you come home from the beach, like we did yesterday, and Mr Beach House walks straight out to the back deck, beer and reading mattter of choice in hand and plonks himself down, when there are kids to feed, bathe and bed. There's washing to be hung out and the last of the platters from the big boozy luncheon the day before, are yet to make it into the dishwasher.
Oh no I can take it, because I know you dear Ray, are coming tomorrow. You are going to save me from a small part of that completely unfair human condition, known as the household division of labour between husband and wife, that seems to develop the millisecond the first kid pops out.
So Raymondo, if you want more juice you'll have to go, for without you, I think the Beach House would fall apart and you would definitely get your juice. But please don't, I can't afford a divorce and at times, I really do like Mr Beach House.
Don't get me started on the bit about cleaning up for the cleaner though. That is another post in itself. Ray tells me my pre clean clean, is no where near as good as it was before I started blogging. Well I've got news for you Ray, I'm over making you look good. But it's about so much more than the clean. You have a key to our house (although you deny it) and at least the floors, the kitchen and the bathroom get the once over each week, which is probably more than I'd do, if left to my own devices. More importantly you have kept our marriage together. Man you are priceless.
On further analysis I love that your impending arrival each week, spins me into a cleaning frenzy the night before. I morph into an army sergeant, barking orders in the direction of the Beach House Brats, because Mr Beach House, as I indicated, has been declared untrainable. Anything moveable is lifted up and a general tidy up is on the cards. I so wish I could keep it as tidy as it is upon Ray's departure each week, but I can't seem to, try as I might. So thank you for the pressure you put on me each week. I operate best when my back is to the wall. I often wonder if I would ever tidy up if it wasn't for you!!!!!
So that's what you write about when you have shots of an Easter table and the season is over.
Oh and the surf board chalk board is now being made to order. Details on price are here
Today I am partying here