Cleaning me out of my wallet

I have a friend on Facebook whose countdown to spring begins on the first day of winter.

I have to say, I'm all in. Although a calm, wintery, snowy day is pretty, winter is my least favourite season of the year.

I prefer longer, warmer days. Ones with no snow, slush, or freezing rain.

However, aside from being able to sit outside on my deck in the spring, the other thing that spring conjures up is spring cleaning.

Not sure if I'm a fan or not.

But I'll find out. I have a lot of cleaning to do.

Thinking of cleaning reminds me of one day many, many years ago when my two sons – then very young boys – launched into a cleaning frenzy at our house.

It wasn't even spring cleaning – it was a random day in the summer.

I'd say their motives were admirable, but it was really just about the money. They wanted me to pay them for cleaning things that I never asked to be cleaned.

At the time my youngest son wanted a Nintendo DS – one of those hand-held video game units that were popular at the time. He said he'd pay for it himself. With some of his birthday money he was off to a running start, but obviously he felt he was too far away from the finish line. So he decided to speed things up.

We were sitting in the living room when all of a sudden he sprang off of the couch, grabbed a Kleenex and wiped some dust off the television.

Then he turned to me and said, “That will be $5.”

“For what?” I asked.

“For washing the TV,” he said.

I suggested he'd had to do a lot more than rub a tissue across the television to earn money.

The M-word was enough to catch the attention of his older brother who wanted in on this too. He volunteered to vacuum.

I'd never seen anyone so happy to be vacuuming. He was smiling and giggling the entire time. I don't even think Mary Poppins was ever that happy.

While my attention was on the ever-so-happy-vacuuming Mr. Poppins, my youngest son shouted from the kitchen that he was washing the counters. I went in to see him crawling across the counter on his hands and knees with a wet facecloth that was dripping down the sides of the cabinets onto the floor.

It was clear he truly did not get the concept of cleaning.

While I was cleaning up after him in the kitchen, he shouted out from the hall that he was now “washing the walls.” I rushed over to see him swiping a different dripping wet facecloth across the paint. The water was leaving streak marks. The carpet was drenched.

Again, not getting it.

I then went into his room and saw a pile of toys he had “cleaned” by moving them of off the floor and onto his bed.

“Do you think that's better?” I asked him.

“It's better than nothing,” he suggested.

“I think you've done enough cleaning for today,” I told him. “Thanks for all your help.” He extended his hand. I glanced upwards for that cloud in the sky that money falls out of.

Meanwhile, Mr. Poppins had finished vacuuming and was asking for another job. I asked him what he was saving his money to buy.

“Nothing,” he said. “I just want money.”

At that point, I wasn't sure what would happen first. Would they clean me out of my house, or clean me out of my wallet?

Guess it's a good thing winter cleaning isn't a big thing. I couldn't handle multiple cleaning seasons.