McCleaning Check

I have become programmed to only clean my home during scheduled inspections. This of course is because of years and years of conditioning, not the hair kind because I don’t touch the stuff (my hair is naturally soft and fluffy without it).

Anyway for two years while on my mission for the LDS church, I anxiously awaited the monthly white glove inspection, only to trash the place as soon as the visit was over. Thanks for you visit; don’t let the mountain of garbage hit you on the way out!

BYU approved housing tends to follow a strict (sometimes loose) game of cat and mouse (and cockroach).They scare you into preparing for the cleaning inspection of a lifetime, only to not show. Sometimes they show. It really depends on how lazy they are. Sometimes too lazy to even announce cleaning checks altogether.

Anyway, when you save all your cleaning for one late night/early morning a couple behavioral patterns tend to emerge. They stem from these two cynical though appropriate questions. First, why clean today what you’ll have to clean again Friday night before the cleaning check? Secondly, why (or rather for whom) are you cleaning again?

So you start only cleaning for the checks. What happens when Pavlov stops ringing that bell? You see where I’m headed with this. And then you start cutting corners. Because if the cleaning checker isn’t gonna see it, then why clean it?

Which leads me to my bone chilling conclusion (my “dirty” little secret if you will): it doesn’t actually have to be clean; it just has to look clean.

So Rachel and I assumed our days of cleaning were over forever now that we were married and free of BYU approved bondage. When we moved into our new place, the landlady, Mrs. McClean (real name), asks me if Rachel is a good housekeeper. Ha! Good one, McClean. Then she complained about some of the dirty tenants in the past. I acted appalled. I let her believe what she wanted to believe.

So we decided to renew our summer lease to a fall/winter one. We saw her in the parking lot tonight and now she wants to come by for a McCleaning inspection first thing Saturday morning (she wanted to come sooner, the crazy). Here we go again. Looks like we’ll be up late Friday night. McClean means clean!