{What I Love} no2: W.E.D.
{What I Love} no5: Black & White Florals

{What I Love} nos 2 & 3

(We had to reformat our computer this weekend, which meant no blogging for me despite my blog-every-day goal. Such is life. Moving forward!)

{What I Love} no3: Lavender Comet
I don't remember doing many household jobs when I was a kid. My mom was fairly obsessive about washing windows, which we did every spring. We each had a dishes night. I sometimes did the vacuuming. But I don't think we had a prescribed schedule for getting stuff done. In fact, keeping the house clean was one of my parents' Big Issues, the things they fought over quite a bit, especially after my dad was laid off. My mom, who was working full time, (understandably) thought that my dad could do some housework. I don't know exactly how my dad felt about it, except I knew this: If we came home from school to a nearly-pristine house, with my dad finishing up the vacuuming, I'd get an anxious belly and my pulse would accelerate because I knew they'd been arguing.

(It still makes me anxious to see a man vacuuming. Strangely enough, one of my marriage's Big Issues is keeping the house clean, but even if Kendell is helping out just to help out and not because of an argument---and, let's face it, I'm the messy one in this equation---I get an anxious belly and my pulse starts to accelerate.)

So it would be logical to think that none of my childhood memories associated with housecleaning would be positive ones. Au contraire, mon fraire. Because despite the emotional weight placed upon housecleaning during my childhood, I drew great happiness from any job that involved scrubbing with Comet cleanser. Scrubbing the gunk out of our orange kitchen sink at the end of cleaning the kitchen? I'd look forward to that during the whole time I was doing dishes. But the best was scrubbing the tub. I'd get the scouring pad and the can of Comet and happily scrub away for a good half hour. While I worked I'd invent little commercial jingles for why you should use Comet to clean your tub, or envision some magical House Cleaning Fairy stopping by and declaring me the best tub cleaner ever. (I'm still waiting for that visit.) There's something completely satisfying at scrubbing away those grey scratches that pans make or the grimy rim of hairiness left after a long soak that included two rounds of bubbles and shaving one's legs (and possibly more than one dropped book).

And, you know, despite the emotional weight that's grown up upon housecleaning now that I'm an adult, I still love scrubbing the sink and the tub. With Comet. Only, not the kind in the green can. I like the lavender scented Comet. Not because it cleans any better---it really doesn't. It doesn't even really smell like flowers. But it does smell like I remember Comet smelling during my epic bathtub scrubbings as a kid. (Even though I am fairly certain that the green Comet was the kind my mom bought.)

Now I sprinkle some on my sink almost daily. I scrub it with a scouring pad, erasing all the day's dings and nudges and stains. It's soothingly immediate, a nearly-instant reward for your effort. The grime rinses away and I'm left with a clean, white sink and no regrets. I wish life's dings and stains were as easy to rinse away, but I'm grateful that at least the sink doesn't have any remorse.

{What I Love} no4: Eyebrow waxing
Sometimes I feel guilty for this. It feels like an indulgence that only The Fabulous People should deserve. In fact, I was nearly 35 before I even touched my eyebrows. (I look back now at my pre-waxing days and cringe. Holy Muppet Character!) Once a friendly and Very Fabulous student of mine pointed out that I really would look better if I shaped my eyebrows, I decided to give it a try. Except, I'm not very good at things like keeping stuff even and straight. So I kept her recommendation in mind until one day—for who knows why—I suddenly was brave enough to let the professionals handle it. I walked right into a Fantastic Sams (I know! Fancy!) and got my eyebrows waxed.

Now I wish I could do it about once a week. Instead, I try to maintain my non-muppet status with tweezers until the eyebrows get in front of me and I can justify going to get them waxed again. Usually they get in front of me because I take out my contacts and wear my glasses for a week or so. Since January was the Pink Eye Month at my house, I wore my glasses for a solid three weeks.

Return of the Muppet Character! When I put my contacts back in on Thursday, I was astounded to see just how icky and overgrown my eyebrows were. Totally justified waxing! First thing Friday morning I had them waxed. Now they're smooth and lovely and put forth not even a hint of Muppet. Is it indulgent? Is it a luxury normally denied those in my tax bracket? I don't care. It's way less painful than tweezing. Faster and more accurate, too. And it makes me feel more polished and presentable.

It's certain: having your eyebrows waxed is a Thing To Love!



I wish I had enough eyebrow to wax!
Fun post. I remember my Mom using Comet or something like it. She called them all Bon Ami (long i). And I just bought the Lavender Comet the other day. Maybe I'll actually try using it!


Doug got his hair cut recently by a Korean lady and she asked him if he wanted his eyebrows trimmed.

Raphael Jeanfrancois

I have a friend who took her daughter to Fantastic Sams in Gilbert, Arizona on her birthday, and they liked their service. In fact, they're thinking of going back there! BTW, how old were you when you started cleaning windows with your mom?

Brain Ventris

Cleaning windows with your mom is one of the best bonding moments one could ever have. I had mine when I was 15, if I'm not mistaken. You know what? You could play some background music while cleaning windows with someone and sing together! :)

Kylee Groves

I chuckled a little after reading your comment, Brain. Our maid and I sang together when we were cleaning windows when I was a lot younger. Anyway, I'm glad you still remember washing windows with your mother, Brian. It would be great if someone could also take a picture of you and your mom, Amy. :)

The comments to this entry are closed.