Twice each year, I go through my clothes closet, switching one season's clothing for another. I took a couple hours this past Friday to start the process.
Grandma was engrossed in her game shows when I quietly arrived home. I told her I'd be upstairs if she needed me. Half way through the Capri pants, I heard the doorbell ring. Since I was in a state of mid-undress (from trying on clothes to determine their current fit level) I listened from the top of the stairway as Grandma went to the door.
At the door was a young man in a plaid flannel shirt, jeans, and tennis shoes. He appeared to be in his early 20's. His hair rested on his shoulders and had a green streak in the bangs that hung over one eye. I couldn't hear their exchange of words but when Grandma said, "Why don't you step in?" I quickly threw on my jeans and sweatshirt.
I then heard Grandma's voice
G: Are you up there?
Me: Yes, I'll be right down.
G: There's someone here I need you to talk to.
I start down the stair steps as Grandma continues talking to me.
G: I want you to hear what this lady has to say. I told her you'd have to make the decision so she might as well only tell us once. Here.
The look of the guy's face was priceless. I stop mid-staircase and reach for the pink piece of paper Grandma is extending to me. I scan it quickly and see the word “Kirby”. Uh boy. An entirely different blog could be written about me and a variety of experiences with Kirby sales ’men’. S/he avoids Grandma’s eye and speaks to me.
Kirby Guy: We’re in the area and would like to shampoo your carpet. There’s no cost to you, it is for advertising purposes. What do you consider the area of your house with the most traffic?
I was tempted to say, “Grandma’s path up and down the basement steps” – however, I refrained.
Me: Actually, my husband and I just shampooed our entire house a few months ago [which was the honest truth] … so we’re not interested but thanks for stopping.
I have a feeling he was more relieved than disappointed. I handed him back his pink paper and out the door he went.
G: So she was going to clean your carpet? For free?
Me: No, he wanted to sell me the shampooer and it wasn’t a woman Mom… it was a guy.
G: You’re kidding. Looked like a woman to me. (Obviously)
Me: That’s OK – I’m sure it was the hair… (couldn’t have been his flat chest)… but you really shouldn’t let anyone in the house.
G: OK… but she had me fooled.
I return to the closet and Grandma to her chair.
Two days and one closet later, I am knee deep in piles of clothing. This particular closet has not been cleaned out in probably four years. … coats, graduation gowns, costumes, clothes that don’t fit, clothes someone didn’t like (I’m sure you’ve been there). Off season here, Goodwill there … kid’s dress up play clothes here… needs washing there… I’m drowning in piles and now regret the decision I’d made to go deeper into the abyss. I took a break.
As I settled into my recliner, DH handed me the remote… I scanned the DVR for something to watch. Fifteen minutes into the program, CeCe comes downstairs and wants her hair colored. I tell her to mix up the color and I’ll be right there. A few minutes later, I’m up to my elbows in hair dye, when Grandma comes into the kitchen.
G: Wow, what are you doing?
Me: Coloring CeCe’s hair. Does this look familiar to you Mom? (I say with a smile)
G: No…
Me: It should… you used to color my hair just like this…. (for years!)
G: Nope … I don’t remember.
CeCe had to wait 45 minutes to wash the dye out and I decided to seize the moment.
Me: Mom, you didn’t feel well yesterday so we didn’t do your shower… Let’s do it now.
G: Right now? I don’t think I feel like it.
Me: You never feel like it – let’s go.
We went through our usual shower routine (which we’re getting faster at all the time). When I had her hair dry and styled, I opened the bathroom door and directed her to the stairs. From this perspective, she got her first view of my open bedroom door and the clothes and chaos therein, extending into the hallway.
G: Wow… is she moving in or out?
Remember, sometimes Grandma thinks we all live in a complex.
Me: It’s all mine Mom… and I live here. I’m not going anywhere.
There are days I’d maybe like to… but for now, I’ll be content with clean closets.
So ends Episode 22.
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