Those of you who know me personally and/or intimately are aware that my housekeeping skills leave something to be desired. The less kind among you might say that the something to be desired is a wrecking ball, but then again you might choose instead to remember that discretion is the better part of valor, or at least, for those of you who know me intimately, that I was good in bed. For those of you who know me personally but not intimately, well, I’ll just have to hope for the better part of valor thing.
In any case, even I will acknowledge that, when it comes to my apartment, I am not the neatest of men. This is a result of having too many books, too many papers, and only a velleity to do anything about it.
E.S., however, takes a less lackadaisical view of the whole thing. You may remember that in the past he has actually done something about the messiness of my apartment himself. Apparently, however, that was a one-time event, not to be repeated (or perhaps it was a Christmas gift and I can expect the same next December). In any case, he has been after me for weeks to clean my apartment. Every time the subject came up I would promise to do so, and, as evidence of my good faith, would pick up a piece of paper from the floor (making sure he saw me) and put it in the recycling box. Then I would blithely make my way through the obstacle course of books, papers, and dog toys to wherever my destination was.
Then, this morning, E.S. said he wasn’t having sex with me until I cleaned the apartment.
Let me tell you, you could do brain surgery in this apartment now.
Actually, that’s a lie, but the place is certainly cleaner than it was before his Lysistrata move. And, as subsequent events proved, brain-surgery clean wasn’t necessary for him to lift the moratorium.
you have my sympathy … only the horror of my book group coming this wednesday has forced me to do 20 mins worth of washing up. Now i have to reward myself with cup of coffee in the garden for my sterling efforts…
Tell ES that the instant I read that earlier this morning, I told my boyfriend that he wasn’t getting any until he tidied up. When I get to his later tonight I expect his room will be spotless!
The more I read, the more I like ES.
But don’t you feel better now ?
If I got laid for cleaning the house, it would be spotless.
eveyone…or rather everything…has its price, I guess.
Perfect! If only I’d been able to pull that off when I was the one who cared about keeping your room tidy.
Wow. E.S. is one smart man.
I have a strong feeling that if I ever have a boyfriend and I tell him to clean up or no sex he will choose the second option.
I must say that, my boyfriends apartment was drivomg me just a little bonkers, and then I read your post, which of course (thank you E.S.) gave me the idea. I decided to visit a couple of days later. I wouldn’t do any surgery there, but at least now I don’t mind it if I need to get a glass of water.