Spring Cleaning

“I think it’s important to start each project new and clean,” says the Pirate Queen from the BatPhone pressed to my ear.

 

“I agree,” I agree.  I couldn’t agree more.  I’m staring at my dirty guest bathroom. The Rorschach mirror splotches, the mini green counter jungles, and the moat creature swirling the toilet bowl of  Yoo-Hoo colored fluid,  all support her premise.  It’s also Persephone’s bathroom. She’s personalized the room with her own special “flavor.” A clean start would be quite the improvement.

 

Unfortunately, to start this project new and clean, somebody has to make it that way first.

 

“Hang on,” I tell my Queen, covering the phone, “Persephone!”

 

“Yes Rob?”  Persephone comes on little fog feet.  Her diction is getting much better.

 

“When are you going to clean your bathroom?” I ask, hand-gagging the phone.

 

She stares at me with deep round kitty eyes, “Mew?” Licking her paw, she runs it up her nose and over her head and then moves on down the hall.

 

“Hey!” I pull the phone back to my ear, “Sorry about that.”

 

“You still trying to teach Persephone to clean?”

 

“Yeah. ”

 

“How’s that coming?”

 

“She’s not getting past her head.”

 

“Here’s a thought: why don’t you clean it yourself?”

 

I look around the room again.  My toes curl into the cotton rag mat at the threshold, afraid to cross into alien territory. “I’m sorry.” I tap my hand on the receiver rhythmically, “you’re breaking up.”

 

“Is that why you’re making helicopter noises?”

 

“Oh, uh, yeah.  What are breaking up noises again?”

 

“You trying to hang up on me like that.”

 

“Oh.”  I follow with baleful bale of groveling. She forgives me, then suggests that since I’m already on my knees, I should go ahead and clean my bathroom.   

 

Staring at the Petri-floor, I would rather pluck every hair from my legs with a pair of tweezers, but the pirate makes a strong argument with her sterilized cleanliness hook.  I let her go so that I can contemplate the darkness before me.

 

Here’s the thing though:  I’m busy and I’m a guy.  Cleanliness may be next to godliness, but it’s philosophies away from Robliness. I’m more of a housekeeping Nihilist: repetitive cleaning is a meaningless slouch towards an unsatisfactory end.

 

My pirate wants a clean bathroom; I need to find religion quickly.

 

“The power of Lysol compels you!”

 

There’s a growl from the darkness.

 

“Persephone?”

 

“Yeah, dude.”  She appears behind me with a basket. “Here’s your mop, your broom and a boatload of cleaning solvents.  Good luck in there, it’s naptime. Oh, and you might want these.” Persephone paws a pair of galoshes towards me, then smiles and disappears.

 

I decide to start with the guest shower first.  It’s simple.  I haven’t had showering guests in over a year. It should be pretty clean in there.  I pull the curtain back.

 

“AHHH!” I scream.

 

The tub stopper is lying in the middle of the tub, a pair of legs sticking out from underneath it.  Not human legs, my guests all left safe and sane I swear.  No these gams more arachnidan shaped, and judging from their size and the surrounding field of dead gnats and ants, Shelob is well fed.

 

I look around for a weapon.  There’s nothing. This is the guest bathroom.  Makeshift weapons are intentionally absent. 

 

“Damn!”  Hoping she hasn’t seen me yet, I step back slowly. Right foot tip-toes linoleum, left foot tip-toes linoleum, right foot linoleum, left foot cat box.

 

“Shi—“ I stop mid word.  I don’t want to wake my guest.   I know that Persephone isn’t any better about policing her box than I am. My foot is buried, and I’m sure it’s not deep kimchi.

 

Now I have a new problem. I don’t want to track bathroom contaminate into the rest of my house.  Right stepping back once more, I’m almost at the door.  I reach down to the left and pull my foot galosh free, then stand and wrap my arm around the doorjamb. Slowly, the boot sinks into the box.  Never to be seen again.

 

It’s a reach, but my toes touch the mat and I fall backwards into the hall.  Safe.  I’m panting. Persephone appears sniffing my cheek, “Get back in there, Rob!  You gotta eat lightning, you gotta crap thunder.”

 

“Yeah, I think that’s what got us into this mess.”  I pull myself up and brush myself off.  In my bedroom is another pair of shoes—one pair, and they’re dress shoes with flat leather soles, perfect for slaying.  Unfortunately that’s my only other pair.  So I put one shoe on and carry the other in my hand and return to the bathroom.

 

This time I’m mismatched and prepared.  I’m armed with Sole-splatterer. Leaning over the tub, I toe up the stopper. It flips over. Shelob is noshing on cricket remains.  She’s startled forelimbs kicking the air, cursing—at least in the moment it takes for me to bring the shoe crashing down on her head.

 

Unsure of her shoe stamina, I bring wingtip of death down again and again until she’s spider paste.  Mission accomplished!

 

Or so I thought.  Apparently she was co-opting the tub stopper, and a horde of mini-spiders pours out.

 

“Gahhh!” I stand up and turn on the shower.  The bottom of the tub is a swirling, screaming, scrambling, jumble.  The horde washes down the drain.  Why didn’t I try this earlier?  Obviously I’m a melodramatic writer.  It would have had no literary effect.

 

There’s a rumble from the toilet moat.  I’m not sure what it is. I don’t know if I want to know.  I’ve had my one victory today. Rome wasn’t built in a day, and this room is a far backwater cry from Rome. It will take time.  I need a rest.

 

You know what? I need more than that.  I need a piece of drywall.  The Pirate Queen is right: it is best to start each project new and clean.  I’ll just wall up the door.

 

“I’m Done!”

 

There’s a pawing of disagreement at my leg, “My cat box is still in there, and you left the shower running.”

 

“Crap.”

 

“I can’t without a box.”

 

That’s the thing about clean starts. They aren’t always so clean, and we have to start somewhere.  Right now I need to find a new place to start.  I’m thinking a drywall saw and some kitty spelunking gear should do the trick.