About six months ago our cleaning lady started bringing an assistant along during her weekly miracle-working visits to our home. I whined pitifully about the assistant shortly after her arrival, but it's been long enough now she deserves a follow-up review.
So, after six months of house-cleaning duty, I can now officially conclude that our new Assistant Cleaning Lady is.... what's the phrase I'm looking for here.... good? no. motivated? no. She....
She was raised by wolves. That's what I mean to say. Our Assistant Cleaning Lady, who is very nice, was raised in a jungle by very nice wolves.
How do I know this? It took a while to figure out, but that conclusion became undeniable. Whenever we can't find something, we eventually realize that Assistant Cleaning Lady has "put it away" somewhere. Then, the only way to find it, is to try and think like a wolf. Where's Daisy's Tamagotchi? Oh, it's hidden under her jewelry pile. Where's my stapler? Buried in the back yard! Why was that baking pan put in the cabinet when it was still sticky? That's how wolves do the dishes!
It's like she came up with her own Dewey Decimal system for home organization, but since she was raised by wolves, it's a really crappy one. So, these days, when we find dirty pots, carefully stewing in their own juices on the stove, Hank and I just look at each other and say, "Wolves."