Tuesday, 24 July 2012

The over the top art of too much maintenance.

So I had the dishwasher man come because the dishwasher wasn't cleaning the dishes.  This renders it slightly less useful than a cupboard.

He said my swirly twirly thingies were blocked and I should rinse everything thoroughly before putting plates in and clean the swirly twirly thingies every week.

Cupboard or useful appliance.  Sometimes it's hard to tell the difference. 
I nodded and smiled.

The washing machine man said I needed to only fill each load to 2/3 of the capacity, for better swishing and swashing (my terminology).  He also said to make sure he came back to service it every 12 months, or woe betide its ongoing potential to actually wash clothing.

Poor old girl, but she's Euro and built like an ox so I plan on a few more years of stuffing her full of clothes. 

I took his business card.

The couch cleaner man said he must come back every 6 months or I would risk my couch becoming a foetid brown slime pile, instead of the fetching cream coloured comfort zone it was intended to be.  He recommended purchasing a protective spray.  He also warned against consuming red wine and chocolate while sitting on it.


In a dim light, you can't see the stains at all, so we watch TV in the dark. 
I put a reminder in my phone to call him in six months, all the while cursing the stupid, stupid impulse that caused Mike and I to purchase a cream coloured couch in the first place.  With three tiny children aged 4, 2 and just hatched.

I think we were so excited by being out buying furniture without kids (his parents were visiting and babysitting) that we had a collective brain freeze.  Normally one of us plays bad cop, not this day.  And now we are stuck with it.  Large, not very clean, comfortable red wine and chocolate consumption zone that it is.

The running shoe seller told me to buy two pairs and rotate them and to buy special inner soles to correct my "gross pronation".  (Lucky me, I'm a gross pronater!)

The fancy shoe shop sales assistant told me to apply waterproofing spray (available for $29.95) every two weeks to my new boots.
Shabby, unwaterproofed boots.

The school shoe salesperson told me to polish the kids shoes every week for longevity and strength.  My longevity and strength or the shoes?

The hairdresser recommended that I buy overpriced salon shampoo, that any brand of shampoo purchased in a supermarket was like poison for hair, and told me my children should be using the expensive stuff too, to foster good hair habits in their future.

What happened to Johnsons 'No More Tears' for goodness sake?  Back in the 70's we were lucky they'd even thought to make a shampoo that didn't sting like buggery.

All these people are well meaning, dedicated custodians of their particular subject, offering helpful advice to the poor faltering idiot who owns/is buying the product on which they are an expert.

But honestly, if I did all this stuff, to all my stuff, and my kids stuff I'd never have time to do anything else.

So I don't do any of it.

And I'll bet the dishwasher man doesn't waterproof his boots.

And I'll also bet the hairdresser doesn't rinse her plates much.

And so on.

PS. The BBQ salesman told Mike to clean his fancy pants stainless steel grilly things EVERY TIME HE USED THEM. And he does, sometimes even while the guests are still having coffee and tea, just to get a start on.  He is a special kind of husband.

The fucking immaculate BBQ.