I
always know when April makes its yearly debut without consulting the calendar
because my wife usually says, "Let's clean out the garage today.”
Somehow,
her "let's" has a funny singular ring to it and we had, if I remember
correctly, a double ring wedding ceremony. Hers is on her left ring finger
while mine somehow ended up in my nose.
For
some reason Spring brings to women, wives in particular, an uncontrollable urge
to clean something. It doesn't matter what that something is, it has to be
cleaned. Moreover, it does not matter how clean or dirty that something is or
when it was last cleaned, it must be cleaned again.
This
represents a basic philosophical difference between men and women. In the
beginning, man was perfectly at home with dirt, then along came Eve and
introduced Spring-cleaning.
Thus
began the yearly ritual known as Spring-cleaning. This tradition has been
handed down from mother to daughter since the beginning of time. As far as I
can ascertain, no father on record has handed down to his son any way of
putting a stop to this nonsense. And don't think I'm not just a little upset
about that.
I
think our forefathers could have found a fifth father to help come up with a
workable plan to get rid of this yearly onus.
Every
year I ask the same question: How in the world does Spring get so dirty? And,
more important, why do I have to clean it? I didn't mess it up.
I
believe Mother Nature ought to clean her own Spring and not push this
responsibility onto husbands like me who have better things to do with their
time.
Spring-cleaning
would not be so bad if I could use my definition of clean rather than my
wife's. One man's clean is his wife's "When are you going to clean
that?"
In
our house, the annual Spring-cleaning focuses on the garage. When my wife gets
it into her head to clean the garage, I get it into my head to get clean out of
her way. In the scheme of things, how important is a clean garage anyway? It's
not as if Martha Stewart is going to make a surprise visit.
My
philosophy is simply, a dirty garage is a happy garage, it just doesn't make my
wife happy and when she not happy neither am I, so I am willing to live with an
unhappy garage. These are the compromises enabling husbands to survive
generation after generation. At least, enabling this husband to survive
Spring-cleaning one more year.
My
idea of cleaning the garage is opening the garage door and the back door and
let nature take its course. However, when I suggest this, an ill wind blows my
way, if you know what I mean.
My
wife insists cleanliness is next to godliness. If that is so, why did God
create so much dirt?