There goes my home cred.
If you know the Rock Your Chores origin story, it all started with the weekend grudge matches I had with my long to-do list. I didn’t leave myself time for joy and play, rest or relaxation. I was my own evil stepmother.
One of the staples on that soul-sucking to-do list: clean the bathroom.
But times are changing around here and part of my chores manifesto is to find ways to take back my weekends. I am writing this on a Saturday morning, leisurely drinking coffee, with plans later to bake and party with friends. Life is good.
I am not saying I let my bathroom get disgusting. You can still come visit me. Although, please give me a little notice, in case I am wearing the WBD—ain’t no one wants to see that.
OK, back to potty talk.
Here’s how me and the John are getting along. Basically, I am doing a little here and there, so it’s never one big gnarly job. Divide and conquer, kids!
The sink: On a weekday, after battling hair and makeup, I might clear the vanity off and give it all a quick spray and wipe.
This is also a good life strategy because hair in the sink is cause for marital discord around here. Only one of us actually has hair so guess who gets all the blame? I don’t do this task daily, but I do it enough that the sink stays relatively clean.
The toilet: I use a similar technique here. At the risk of sounding overly clever, I am not anal about the toilet—but I do really dislike when a ring forms.
So anytime I notice the bowl isn’t as fresh as it could be, I sprinkle it with magic fairy dust (I love this stuff! It’s cheap and made with simple ingredients) and give it a whirl. It takes less than two minutes to brush, and then I hit the rest of toilet with a bleach wipe and get on with life.
If a mantra would help, think: “If you poo, you know what to do.” 😉
You could also use The Force Your Hand game. As in, put the cleaner in the bowl so you’re compelled to clean it before you can use it again. That’s motivating, I can tell you. There may be dancing involved, so you can count it as exercise too.
The tub and shower: Again, I try not to wait until it’s a major ordeal. I found this fantastic stuff and it’s been life changing. I spray it on, either pre- or post-shower, and gunk and grime don’t stand a chance. It may not be the most gentle product, but I’ve yet to pass out and some dirty tasks call for the big guns.
The floor: If I am oversharing, which I tend to do here, floors are not my strong suit. I walk all over them and the word neglect comes to mind. Now that I’ve put that out there, I need a strategy for getting this job done more consistently.
Aha! An idea: I’ll add floors as an option on my weeknight Just F-it list.
I love it when a plan comes together.
The not-so-glamorous life of a teenage lifeguard
When I worked summers at our local pool, lifeguards had jobs that were above and beyond twirling a whistle, yelling at kids for running and working on our tans.
If you were extra golden, you were assigned hosing down the deck. Easy and still cool. Cleaning the locker rooms, including the toilets, not as lucky—but not that bad.
The worst, most dreaded of all duties, and one that I think scarred me for life, was washing down the public restrooms that were outside the pool and open around the clock. That, my friends, was where I learned just how disgusting humans can be.
I’ll spare you the gory details, but EWWWWW.
If any of my former pool mates are reading this, they know what I am talking about. Just thinking about it makes me want to go clean my bathroom.
I am Margie Reece. I am here to help you rock your chores and have some fun doing it.