Would your house pass the “white‑glove test?” Hmm, don’t worry, I didn’t think so. No, Dear Readers, I am not suggesting that your house is less than spotless, but lets face it, most of us enjoy “casual clutter” and can live with a few particles of dust. Well, that was all well and good until my mother made her reservations to come out for Christmas. My duster, vacuum and mop have been working overtime. The “white‑glove” is coming!  

Women of my mother’s generation lived by a different set of rules. They “house‑cleaned”

every spring and fall, making sure that no dust, dirt or grime lurked in any corner, under any rug, behind any refrigerator, or on top of any shelf. Everything was clean, from the garage to the pantry and messiness was simply not tolerated! My mother, also being very English, has very specific expectations on how tea should be brewed, how dinner should be prepared and how children should behave.

Help!

My mother is coming!

Some psychologist in California claims that fifty percent of all adults resort to “feeling like kids” in the presence of their parents. Many of these adult children can never “stand‑up” to their parents and a significant number of them have “nervous, anxiety symptoms” in the company of their parents. Always seeking approval, barely feeling adequate, rarely receiving praise, these adult kids are a “psychological wreck.” The good news is that we don’t live in California and most of us Arizonans simply don’t conform to California research standards. We are not wrecks!

I am not nervous. But if you see me around town with a weird twitch, it might be because I’ve been up on a ladder making sure that no dust appears on any pot‑shelves. Which makes me ponder the bigger issue – why do we all want twelve‑foot ceilings with pot‑shelves? Clearly, they are not a “thing” that any woman of my mother’s generation would have wanted. A couple in Desert Hills who recently bought a new house, insisted that the builder “remove all of those ridiculous dust‑catchers (pot shelves)” as part of the purchase agreement. Seems like a brilliant idea to me.

Have you looked behind your refrigerator lately? Now there’s a scary thought. I actually know people who make a habit of moving just so they don’t have to “do the unthinkable.” The “Queen of Clean” who often is a guest on a local radio show, claims that the combination of the Holidays, family gatherings, entertaining, plus the added pressure to “showcase our homes” can “push well‑adjusted people over the edge.” Yikes! All this angst because of little dust and dirt?

The newest “scare” are those commercials and ads that claim you could be sleeping with millions (or billions) of dust‑mites. To survive, we are supposed to be vacuuming our mattresses constantly and “protecting” them with special “dust‑mite control” covers. Magazines even have pictures of these little microscopic beasts that evidently multiply by the minute and cause everything from sneezing to asthma attacks. Do you know why your pillow‑top mattress and down pillows are so puffy? It’s because they are teaming with dust‑mites! No, scratch that terrible thought, let’s put it completely out of our minds or we might never sleep soundly again.

Oh heck, I give up. The “white‑glove” test will never pass in my house. A big dog, four grandkids, plenty of Arizona dust, lots of lovely pot‑shelves and a few billion dust‑mites makes the task of keeping the house “spotless” impossible. Besides, my mother will probably not pull out the refrigerator to peek behind it. Let’s not let a little thing like a tidy house get us all stressed out. It’s the Holidays – get out the eggnog, spike it with something “nice” and put the duster, mop and broom away.  Fluff up the dust‑mites (oops, I mean the pillows), decorate the tree, bake a few dozen cookies and spend time shopping, dining and drinking lots of eggnog (not cleaning) during this merriest of all seasons.

Oh, are you looking for the perfect gift for your Mom? I just bought mine a pair of black leather gloves.