cleaning the house

Today is a Dora day.

Dora is the woman who helps me clean the house with no name. "Helps me clean" is one of those euphemisms that men use to inflate their role in house work.

I have a Mexican friend who claims that he always makes breakfast for his family. I mentioned that when I met his wife. She laughed, and said he had made breakfast for the family. Once. Eleven years ago.

I am a bit better than that. Dora has been cleaning my living spaces for about eleven years. When I moved into my current house, we split up the chores into two lists. What we jokingly call "man jobs" and "woman jobs."

Now and then a discussion breaks out on Facebook when someone "confesses" to cleaning up the house before the house cleaner arrives. I guess I do the same with Dora, but always in accordance with our very Adam Smith division of labor.

Dora arrives every Wednesday and Saturday between 9 and 10 in the morning. By the time she arrives, I have usually completed most of my "man jobs."

• Strip my bed
• Consolidate the toilet paper and contents of the waste basket in my bedroom; change liners
• Bag and delivery laundry to the laundress
• Set up my computer in the patio to give Dora full access to my bedroom
• Pick up and bag leaves and flowers that have fallen onto the patio
• Take out the kitchen garbage; change liner; wash garbage can
• Bag up toilet paper from pool bathroom; change liner
• Stow last night's dishes and pans from the drying rack
• Wash out kitchen sink
• Trim patio vines

 Miscellaneous chores make their way onto the list now and then.

But that list (as long as I have made it appear, just like my breakfast-making friend) is tiny compared with Dora's jobs. Sweeping. Mopping. And, the biggest job of all, cleaning the glass that forms the fourth wall on all of my rooms.

I started to write that I could clean the house on my own without Dora's help. And that would be true. But it would also be true that the place would not look the same without her meticulous talents. I may as well put that particular thought out of my mind.

And I can banish the thought because Dora and I will continue to complete our respective lists twice a week. The nice thing is that when I am away from the house (which I soon will be), Dora will do both of our jobs.

Thanks, Dora.