Comin' Clean

"How did
it get
SO bad?"

Kerry asked scoping out the day's work.

My sister loves to clean.

Graciously, she and my parents volunteered to help tame my home – of four men.

Toys, games, videos, DVDs, books, clothes, sports equipment, boxes of bills and tubs of memorabilia filled closets and spilled out along the floors' borders. Beat-up second-hand furniture, water-damaged cabinets, worn-out computers and small appliances, musty carpets, remodeling supplies, tools and saws lined the home's lower level. My abandoned craft room looked bewitched. Bolts of fabrics, unfinished projects, yarn and other stuff left narrow paths to maneuver in, out and about our lower level.

"It's a sickness," I said. "Nobody helps. I've got no time to sort stuff. I try to clean, but the boys mess it up again claiming: 'We like it like this.' They shrug when I say: 'Normal people don't live like this.' I hate it. After awhile, I gave up. Instead, I read books, wrote articles, volunteered at school and church – did anything to get away from this."

My helpers shook their heads and said, "What's the plan?"

They knew in two weeks, my Norwegian host parents were due to arrive on a life-long dream trip to America, including a four-day stay with us. I wanted to return the hospitality they showed me over the years. I seized this visit as a deadline to end the glut!

We needed a guest bedroom. Our middle-school-age sons wanted their own rooms. One for Isaac was in the works downstairs. The adjacent one – my craft room – would become Aaron's bedroom. I said, "We need to flip flop rooms. I'm donating my fabrics and crafts. I've worked in here less than five times in two years."

I added, "Let's dump the old furniture, worn-out appliances, carpets, whatever…"

Kerry rubbed her hands and smiled, "Let's do it!"

The previous day, Dad and Mom had helped me sort boxes for donations and roll up old carpets. They "overnighted" at a motel where Mom stayed this day recovering. Dad, Kerry and I worked steadily until 5 pm loading up Dad's huge trailer with 1,261 pounds of junk for the dump plus recyclables. Kerry organized the rearrangement of keeper furniture. The result was the spacious-looking house we moved into a decade ago.

The following days, I bleach washed walls, floors and ceilings, scrubbed tiles, swept porches and outside walls, washed windows, emptied closets, sorted junk and reorganized. Sometimes, I cried with exhaustion.

More often, I laughed at images. As I vacuumed up spiders, I pictured myself as an early pioneer taming the wilderness. Rather than slashing and burning the land, I was reclaiming my house as a domicile... An appropriate an image considering my host parents' dream-trip entailed visiting pioneer places.

Sunday afternoon, Isaac and Aaron moved their bedroom equipment downstairs. Their eyes glowed as each took his own room after 11 years of sharing. Isaac said, "Finally... my own space. All I need now is a 'Welcome' mat!"

They hung posters and photos on to-be-refinished walls, set lamps on chairs and stools used for night stands, and laid throw rugs over the bare cement floor. Their dad observed, "Looks like a prison."

"Primitive," I countered. "Functional. Improvements to come."

On Friday evening, Dan and I hit the furniture store together. I wanted a new bed mattress. He wanted TV room furniture. He told the saleswoman, "I love a good deal."

She beckoned, "Follow me. Have I got deal for you!"

Wednesday the store's movers hauled into our TV room a leather sofa, loveseat, chair and ottoman – a showroom set purchased on clearance at half price.

Upstairs in the guest bedroom, the movers set up a discounted showroom model of a Posturepedic mattress.

Later, the boys arrived home from school. Aaron's eyes popped, "WHOA! This is TOO good for US."

"You're right!" I said. "And it better stay that way."

"Guess there's no more shoving candy wrappers in between the cushions," Aaron snorted. Turning to Noah, I warned, "And no more water bottles and banana peels flipped wherever!"

Noah said, "That's Isaac's banana peels."

The hour before I picked up my host parents, I shoved piles of unfinished work into two 22-gallon tubs. Dan stowed those in the furnace room, picked up a dust cloth and made a clean sweep over the upstairs furniture. Meanwhile I drove to meet my host parents at a local hotel where a van service delivered them from the Minneapolis airport.

They spent four days in our "big, fine house."

Today, three days after their departure, the house holds its orderly form.

Last night as I made a clean sweep, Isaac and Aaron hauled their rugs outside and shook out the dirt. Isaac returned with a sigh, "I love having a clean house!"

"Me too," I said, "But it's work Comin' Clean."