Casual cleaning? Bring it
Lori Borgman | Monday, March 09, 2009
You think nobody sees those dust bunnies under
that bed? You think you can just huff and puff and blow the dust
off those mini-blinds? Trust me, you’re not fooling anybody with
those scented candles. Cinnamon spice, my Swiffer.
Procter & Gamble, makers of Bounty paper towels,
has been studying the attitudes of mothers toward cleaning for nearly
five years and the word is out: We’re not the quicker-picker-uppers
we used to be.
Instead of half-crazed, panicked mothers
grabbing sheets of paper towels and throwing ourselves on spills,
we are now, happy, relaxed, heavily medicated – no wait, I made
that last one up – easy-going women who take a more cavalier approach
to household messes.
The makers of Bounty paper towels believe most
moms want to be moms who smile and say, “Bring it” when it comes
to a household mess. I prefer to believe most moms want to
be moms who say “bring it on,” as it sounds so much better grammatically.
Bottom line? Women’s attitudes about cleaning
aren’t as uptight as they once were. We have gone from being reactive
to pro-active.
I may have gone before some of the rest of you.
I have never taken kindly to men telling women
how to clean. Take the Ty-D-Bol man. You want to help, little fella?
Then get out of the boat, climb out of the toilet, lose the double-breasted
navy blazer, and grab a sponge. Shouting quips from a rowboat is
not helpful.
I also never warmed to the Brawny guy pushing
paper towels. He wears a plaid shirt highlighting that big strapping
chest, has massive forearms and yet, what does he do? He stands
there and grins. The guy should be ashamed of himself. If there
is work to be done, he should make himself useful: offer to move
the piano, a billiards table, or lift the house off the foundation.
Then there’s Mr. Clean, who looks like a
body builder in a white T-shirt, with white eyebrows and bald head.
For decades the man has been lurking in women’s kitchens watching
them struggle with dirt and grime. No normal man stands around watching
a woman mop. Most men see a mop and go into hiding.
I will give Mr. Clean credit for the greatest
cleaning innovation to hit the market in decades – the Magic Eraser.
The magic sponges that take black marks off walls, doors, stairs,
cars, ceilings, you name it. The first time I saw one I was like
the natives in a National Geographic special seeing Polaroids for
the first time. Truly, it was mesmerizing. Alexander Graham Bell
could not have been more thrilled with the telephone.
One of my best cleaning short-cuts came from a
military academy cadet who said polishing the woodwork at the level
of people’s noses can give the illusion of having polished all the
woodwork. Smart kid.
Pipi Longstockings tied sponges to her feet to
scrub the floor. I wonder if Mr. Clean ever thought of that.
Then there is the old trick of throwing a lemon
in the garbage disposal to freshen the kitchen. Nobody will notice
the grease on the stove.
So maybe we have gotten a little cavalier.
Bring it. Bring it on.
