Half-Ass Wipe

Housework is like treading water....

It sucks, but if you don't do it, you'll drown in a sea of toys, dishes, laundry, pet hair, garbage, dust, and God knows what else. Just think of what would accumulate if you just decided to laze around on the couch for a day and watch all your TiVo'd episodes of 30 Rock. Can you imagine? Just sitting there, watching your beloved little children tear around the house, flinging toys, dropping crumbs, spilling juice and spitting up and you're just sitting there, digging into a box of Wheat Thins, calmly cruching away as the TV slowly disappeared behind a mountain of GeoTrax accessories?

But in a way, housework is a good thing. At least it's a form of exercise. I would love to see how firm my butt would get if, instead of bending at the waist to retrieve every wayward toy, I performed a deep-knee lunge. You'd be bouncing quarters off my ass in no time.

And speaking of asses, let me tell you my little housework secret. The simple trick that keeps me from becoming a slave to all things Swiffer, Endust and 409. Ready?

Dishrags.

Dishrags are your friend. Your best friend. Dishrags can do so many things, have so many uses, that if you have a few in your house, you can get rid of your vacuum, mop, broom, lint-roller, dishwasher, dog, car, and remote control.

Seriously.

You can clean anything with a dishrag and a little water. Your darling child spilled fruit punch on the carpet? No problem! A damp dishrag with wipe it right up. Your precious, precious husband left toothpaste film in the sink again? Go get it, Mr. Dishrag! Oh, your drunk friend accidentally punched a hole in your drywall and bled all over the tile floor? Not only can a dishrag mop up the blood, you can ball it up and stuff it on the hole, too!

Dishrags and wiping. That's the only housework you ever have to do. Except of course, laundry. But we all know why that mountain of dirty clothes never ends (see the entry Clothe-us Interruptus).

I think I'm going to start a series on HGTV for everyone with kids. Kinda like The Thirsty Traveler, except it's going to be all about cleaning. I'll call it The Half-Assed Housekeeper, and on it I'll have all sorts of short-cut cleaning tips for those of us who'd rather not sacrifice that precious nap time to clean our house (we'd much rather be reading, emailing or blogging). Of course, none of my friends will want to come over anymore, out of fear that they're walking into a dusty, dirty, bacteria-laden pig-sty. The great thing about wiping with dishrags is that no one can tell this is how you clean. You might as well have disinfected your entire house on your hands and knees. As long as no one brings a blacklight over, you're in the clear.