16 and a half Reasons to be nice to your cleaner

1. She knows what lives behind your sofa

2. She knows what goes on behind closed doors

3. She could, if she wanted to, clean your toilet with your toothbrush. She doesn’t, but she could.

4. She knows you wear the same pyjamas for  a week, or is it two ?

5. She knows who takes anti depressants and who should, really really should

6. She could, if she wanted to, rewrite your magnetic fridge poetry into an rant of polish obscenities, she could, but actually she doesn’t have the time

7. She knows whose son is drinking cider and whose son is dealing weed

8. She knows whose daughter keeps a razor blade in a tiny tin under an almost still fluffy gnarled greying bunnikins

9. She could stop for  moment and think about what it would be like to sit at a scrubbed (by her, of course) pine table with Pilates pals and eat lemon drizzle cake, she could, but  she knows that you monitor the hoover as it trundles from room to room,  so she could, but she daren’t

10. She knows you didn’t make the lemon drizzle cake

11. She knows you did eat 3 packets of crisps, 2 large mars bars and a gluten free chocolate cake in bed this week

12. She could tell you that her children got far better A level results than yours, but she won’t. She guards her privacy,  the knowing  and the knowledge is one way street

13. She knows you are £234.57 overdrawn one day after payday.

14. She knows that you shop in Aldi now, but carry it home in your Kath Kidson jute shopping bags.

15. She could make a fuss about the underpayment, the didn’t have any change, the will sort it out next week, but she won’t. Instead, she has taken to letting the Hoover run on, unminded, while she stares out of the windows, stealing back time.

16. She knows it won’t be long now until you are the one picking up your husbands toe nail clippings from the bed side table,  scrubbing your own pine table, washing the plates your children leave under beds to  until they fester, become concrete, difficult to clean

and then when she meets you,  in the street , sometime  next week  next year, maybe your excleaner, well, she will be very nice to you indeed.


About cathi rae

50ish teacher & aspiring writer and parent of a stroppy teenager and carer for a confused bedlington terrier and a small selection of horses who fail to shar emy dressage ambitions. Interested in contemporary fiction but find myself returning to PG Wodehouse when the chips are down View all posts by cathi rae

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