Little Bathroom of Horrors

I HATE cleaning the bathroom. It's freaking nasty! It is by far my most despised chore. I think I'd rather do all my weekly laundry with one arm tied behind my back than have to clean the bathroom. Having two makes it twice as torturous.

I guess it's just my luck that my most hated chore is also the one that needs to be done most often. I am really a slacker though when it comes to cleaning the bathroom. I probably let it slide just a little too long in between cleanings. I understand that bathrooms are supposed to be cleaned before they LOOK dirty. You know, germs and all. But I usually realize it's time to enter the torture chamber when the ring starts developing in the toilet. Several days later I know that I just can't put it off anymore.

The strange thing about it is, I love a clean bathroom. I don't like using dirty public bathrooms and there are some homes I've been in where I'd rather pee on myself than have to use their toilet. I don't like touching the flusher, I don't like touching the door on my way out, I'm really weird about bathrooms. So I don't understand why I am able to let mine go to the point of ickiness that I do. Maybe I think that if they are my germs that they are a little less gross? Nah, I think I just hate cleaning it.

I have to get myself all worked up to clean the bathrooms. The guest bathroom isn't so bad because it doesn't get used as much. A little toilet scrub, a little counter wipe-down and I'm pretty much good to go. But the master bathroom is another story. My shower, as small as it is, is a pain in the ass to scrub. I have stupid 1965 pipes that drip, so not only does the drip irritate the crap out of me, it also keeps my shower wet 24/7 causing a beautiful, slimy mildew to form very quickly. You have to step down about ten inches into my shower so when you clean it, you've got to bend down into it to reach the floor. I usually kneel and lean in but sometimes I just strip to my underwear and jump in there. I pretty much curse the whole time. Joe knows to not even talk to me before, during, or after I've cleaned the bathroom. It pretty much ruins my day.

Once I've accomplished scrubbing the shower and rinse off the cleaning product to reveal that my 1965 tiles still don't look clean, I move on to the toilet. Oh, the toilet. Can I get a big ICK! for the toilet? I think while I'm cleaning it I maintain a low but steady, "ew, ick, ick, ick, ick..." chant. Like Lamaze breathing. It's so nasty. Women must really love men to clean the disaster that is the toilet. I must love Joe anyway. The bowl is gross enough but when you have to lift the seat to clean it and you see what's under there... Ewwwww! You can't see it, but I'm seriously grimacing right now. But, I get my roll of paper towels ready and my Soft Scrub with bleach and I start scrubbing. I start on the rim of the bowl and then make my way around the base and to the bottom where the toilet attaches to the floor. Then I go back to the underside of the seat, then the topside of the seat, the lid, behind the lid, the flusher, the tank, and the top of the tank. It's a little routine so that I don't miss anything and so that I can distract myself from the actual task. Finally, the toilet is clean. For about an hour until somebody has to use it and then all my hard work is right out the door... or down the drain, if you will.

Then I move to the easier task of the sink, counter top and mirror. I try really hard to wipe down the counter top everyday so that it doesn't get totally nasty. It's really the only part of the bathroom that you can't hide. You can close the shower curtain to hide the dirty shower and you can put the toilet lid down to hide the dirty toilet but the sink is just out there with nothing to cover it up with. But, even with the daily wipings the sink and counter get pretty gross. The toothpaste globs and beard trimmings and water/spittle droplets. At least with just a few wipes they're gone and I'm happy. I can walk out of the bathroom knowing that my torture is over at least for another week (ok, maybe two).

This week's bathroom cleaning had to be especially thorough. My mother is going to be watching our dogs for us while we go to Savannah. I have to make sure that I get all the nooks and crannies before she walks in there and sees how I really live. I don't want her to think that I've turned into a pod person that worships mold or something. I'm sure I'll have to do another cleaning before I leave on Friday but at least I have survived one more day of bathroom cleaning hell.