The boyfriend had to work on Saturday, so I threw myself into the housework. And I found myself oddly missing our old housekeeper, Teresa.
I say oddly because she wasn't very good. Actually, she was a bit of a fraud.
I realized that one morning when I got to the office and realized I'd left some files at home. I'd passed Teresa on my way out of the house as she arrived around 8:30, and now I had to schlep back to the house for the files. When I pulled back up to the house shortly before 10, she was gone. Long gone.
And yet the house appeared clean.
That was her trick. "Appeared". As long as you didn't look too closely, the house looked clean. The front row of glasses and the top plates were always sparkling, the top layer of clothing or towels in the drawers, always neatly folded. Throw in a couple of strategically placed and obvious vacuum tracks and call it a day. It was a pretty good scam.
But the dogs loved her. To this day I'm convinced they understand more Spanish than English, if they understand anything at all. We fired her once, and then hired her back out of guilt. It was just easier to overlook her obvious deceit and shortcomings... as long as the house "appeared" clean.
So as I mopped our fine "imported Italian" tile floors, in our Bakersfield rental home, I found myself strangely appreciative of all her half-assed work.
It isn't easy keeping up appearances.
