Recently, we heard about a sweet little company called the Lubbock Fantasy Maid Service. The Fantasy Maids are a group of entrepreneurial Texas gals who got tired of working in Gentleman’s Clubs and wanted a neater lifestyle. Which means now they’ll come to your house and clean it for $100 an hour—while they’re either topless or fully nude. And all we can say about that is, OMG WHERE THE HELL DO WE SIGN UP?!
Because seriously, if there’s anything we love more than housecleaning, it’s doing it with our jugs flapping in the wind. Don’t you all agree? Why, just think of all those bleach and ammonia fumes wafting their way up your lady parts, making you feel all mountain air fresh and tingly in the nethers! Who needs Summer’s Eve when your hoo-ha has Soft Scrub killing all the germs and caked-on grease inside? And of course it goes without saying that your naked ass will look absolutely gorgeous as you morosely push a Swiffer around the house and spray the shower for black mold and mildew. Rwor! SEXY, SEXY, SEXY TIMES!
Some other ways cleaning naked is a fabulous idea include:
You can polish the silver with your nipples!
And, well, that’s probably it. We should probably quit while we’re ahead here because Lord knows we don’t want the Nudie Housekeeping Association leaving us a hundred lengthy comments about our insensitivity to naked maids. Trust us, they can be quite vicious for a bunch of people who don’t even own pants.
Anyway, while this idea is definitely a little risque, we actually think the Fantasy Maids are the perfect answer for people who are, quite literally, dirty perverts. After all, if watching some hard working woman vacuum your carpet while she’s dressed like a drunk extra from Cabaret makes you hot, who are we to judge?
Oooh, you have (pant) such deep (pant) shag (pant), slobface!
Honestly, we’re just happy the filthy weirdos of the world will finally have their vegetable crispers cleaned out. (That is not a euphemism.) (OK, maybe it kind of is.)
But unfortunately, while we think this is a harmless little company, the Lubbock police department doesn’t agree. No, the coppers insist the Fantasy Maid Service is violating some kind of law or something. And that’s despite the Maids offering a very generous Law Enforcement Discount on their website, too. Um, hello, officers? Don’t you fellas want a waxed woman waxing your floor? Or your credenza gone over with by a bare breasted feather duster? (Again, not a euphemism.) (OK, maybe it kind of is.)
But listen, people. In our opinion, if these women are making money doing something that dirty perverts are willing to pay for and nobody’s getting hurt (or, allegedly, having sex) and the Slim Jim and pizza box littered studio apartments of Lubbock are finally being straightened up, who really cares? They’re all adults here, right? Hell, if someone wanted to clean our houses while naked and covered in cockroaches, we wouldn’t call 911.
Like they say, Cleanliness is next to Godliness. But you know what’s even better? Cleanliness next to Godliness next to Nakedness.
Especially in Lubbock.
To address a couple of our comments, yes, the Fantasy Maids send muscle to watch over the cleaners.
Thank you to Shari at Dusty Earth Mother for the heads up on this.
And, is that Wendi vacuuming? Seriously? Do you really think Wendi would ever….vacuum?
This week there’s been a lot of backlash against a British woman who says her life is hard because she is so beautiful. Men buy her things and women hate her. (By the way, does anyone know what “beautiful” means in British? Because we’re guessing it means something different than it does here over the pond.)
But despite the backlash, The Mouthy Housewives must support Samantha, our brave sister in delusion. Because like her, we are also very much despised–both for our beauty and our Domestic Goddess skills. In fact, it’s probably hard for you to imagine what we’ve all had to endure, so we’re providing you with a list.
Read it and weep.
And then get us a box of bon-bons.
HOW BEING PERFECT DOMESTIC GODDESSES HAS MADE OUR LIVES MISERABLE:
The insurance policies on our vacuum cleaners cut into our silver polish budget.
Our poor husbands don’t know WHAT do to when they check into a five-star hotel on business. Those maids and butlers could stand to learn a thing or two from us.
It’s so embarrassing when other mothers come over and realize they’ve been throwing their kids crap birthday parties for years.
Good Housekeeping and Ladies Home Journal are constantly calling us to fact check.
Our immaculately spotless minivan lacks “character” and “edge.”
Constant worry about dangerous slips and falls due to our hardwood floors being cleaned and waxed to perfection.
We bore our friends to death with the tale of how one of us once found a single stray dog hair on the couch cushion back in 1983. Oh, the embarrassment of that day!
The people at Febreeze forever bothering us about how we get our homes to smell so perfect. How do you bottle perfection?
The overwhelming fear of the other mothers that it’s Picture Day at school when we show up with our perfectly polished children.
Dust runs away from us in fear.
Nobody believes us when we tell them that that cracker ass Martha Stewart steals all of our ideas.
Whenever the Merry Maids see us, they become the Crabby Maids.
We have PhD in ironing (that stands for PutTheIronDown, right?)
Our cleaning women just sit and gaze lovingly at our faces instead of doing their jobs.
So, you see? We know exactly how Samantha feels. It’s tough to be so perfect.
So very, very tough. 🙁
Dear Mouthy Housewives,
My 14 year old daughter does some cleaning jobs around the house to make extra money. My son (12) recently asked if he could do that too, and I agreed. Should he be paid the same as my daughter is even though he is younger and doesn’t do as good of a job as she does?
Oh, how I envy you. At the moment, my kids are still only 3 and 5, and think “cleaning” means throwing things into a corner while simultaneously sobbing about their torment and petitioning the cats for amnesty from their wretched mother. (And that’s WITH bribery, unfortunately.)
But back to your situation. I firmly believe that there is no reason to pay both kids the same amount “just because.” Is this how the real world operates? Hell no! In fact, when one of them complains, tell them to just be happy they aren’t being TAXED! Or that the national gender wage gap doesn’t apply this fiscal year! OR THAT THEY AREN’T WORKING IN SWEATSHOPS, you ungrateful little–
Where was I?
I think the important thing to remember here is that, before you set up any type of allowance agreement, think about age-appropriate chores for each child. Also, be clear about what type of performance is expected from each one of them. For example, having the five year-old manage the electric bill will not “help him learn responsibility” as much as it will “show him how quickly his parents break with the power shut off for DAYS ON END.”
Not that I’m speaking from experience.
Especially since your kids are a little bit older, you don’t need to stress as much about being “fair.” But if you are worried about that, I’d suggest going with a performance-based pay scale. If they’re both doing the exact same quality of work, then perhaps they should be paid the same amount. I’m guessing, however, that there will be a bit of a lapse between the two, in which case, pay accordingly.
Of course, this will be a bumpy road at first, as you’ll probably have to deal with some fallout regarding gender relations and glass ceilings and possibly a civil lawsuit that leads to parental emancipation, but these can all be learning opportunities, amirite?! Minor squabbles and doubts about the validity of your love as a mother are nothing when compared to the glimpse of the “real world” you’ll be giving them.
Dear Mouthy Housewives,
My husband leaves piles of junk all over the house. It drives me crazy. I can’t just throw it all out because there are important receipts, business cards and bills mixed in with the movie stubs. But I’m sick of cleaning up after him. Any ideas?
Oh dear LORD, can I relate, woman. My husband is what I affectionately refer to as three-garage-sales-away-from-an-episode-of-Hoarders. He likes to save. EVERYTHING. And since I happen to be on the opposite end of the spectrum–in that I hate clutter and don’t understand why ALL dishes aren’t, in fact, disposable–it occasionally creates some conflict within our marriage.
Since I lack any sort of organizational skills, I can only tell you my personal coping strategies and hope that they guide you well. (Enough.)
1. Hide that shit in a drawer.
If I’m too exhausted or annoyed to weed through his piles, but also too irritated to look at the clutter for ONE MORE SECOND, I’ll just shove his junk out of view in a closet or something. This can be mildly rewarding, because it allows you the chance to pretend that this whole issue isn’t really happening! The downside, of course, is that he’ll start to accuse you when his papers go missing and he finds his gym shorts in the attic.
What’s a pet peeve of his that you can exploit in an effort to more passive-aggressively communicate your issue? Does he hate it when you leave wet towels on the bathroom floor? Have sex with other men? Call him “Schmoopy” in front of his friends? Perhaps if your own personal happiness isn’t motivation for him to get himself in gear, his own humiliation and shame will work.
3. Help him out. However begrudgingly.
Your husband is likely leaving these piles around because he’s either too overwhelmed by the task of organizing everything or simply unequipped with the tools to accomplish the goal. (Of course, he could also just be frickin’ lazy, but I’ll give him the benefit of the doubt. As I do my husband. Ahem.) Get some file cabinets, folders, office organizing trays, and see if you can’t work together over the weekend to at least get his mess confined to one area of the house.
As fed up as you may be, try to remember that we all have our faults, and that some of those are simply more visible than others. And maybe for your next marriage, try to find yourself a nail-biter instead.
Dear Mouthy Housewives,
My daughter is 7 and has a few friends at school that she likes to play with after school or on weekends. All of the parents have no problem with my daughter coming over to play and they only have good things to say about her. The problem is that I don’t really like to host kids over at my house. There are a few reasons for this:
First, I have four rambunctious dogs and two cats. The dogs get too excited while the cats aren’t nice (nor do they always use their litter box, much to my dismay.)
Second, I am not an overly tidy person. My house is clean enough for me and my family, but it could use some work for “strangers.”
And finally, I’m just not the hostess type and I’m okay with this fact. I don’t intend to change.
My problem is that one parent keeps pushing for a play date at my house. She has stopped inviting my daughter over and, instead, keeps mentioning the kids playing over here. I need to know how to get her off my back about it while not divulging my issues. I don’t want to offend her because I do like the mom and I don’t want to cause any problems with the children. I even thought about coming up with some phobia, but not sure what would fit.
Martha Stewart Doesn’t Live Here
Dear Martha Stewart Doesn’t Live Here,
In the very pressurized and etiquette laden world of Mommy and Me meetings and scheduled progeny play dates it is, in fact [just looking up the bylaws here, one minute. OK. Got it.] against the law to not reciprocate when it comes to hosting, penalty can be equal to: The Silent Treatment, The Rumor Mill, or Public Shunning. Even Hannibal the Cannibal knew all about quid pro quo. So, perhaps we should discuss a different strategy?
First, let’s address the pets. While I understand it has to be very difficult to have people over when it seems like your home is already a 24-hour animal party, it’s important to be able to put the animals away, perhaps in another room(s). Because unless your animals are descendants of Cerberus (I once had a dog who was) and are all on a career path to guarding the gates of hell, you should sequester them every once in a great while, for a few hours, so that you can reciprocate a play date.
Second, as to your cleanliness standards, a wise…no, wait…a waif-like girl once said: “I’m horrible to live with. I don’t clean. My clothes end up wherever I take them off. I forget to flush the toilet.” And she was in Transformers 1 and 2 and on the Maxim Hot List! While we can’t all be Megan Fox, it does show you that success isn’t predicated upon cleanliness. A lot of other mothers have similar anxieties about how clean their houses should be. But in reality, most parents don’t really care if their kid has a friend whose house isn’t perfect or tidy or uncluttered. As long as Charlie Sheen and Brooke Mueller aren’t permanent residents on your couch, I believe even the most neurotic of moms would let you slide (and, yes, I am talking about me).
Finally, with regard to the hostess duties, I’m not sure what kind of highfalutin’ fancy pants play dates you attend, but the majority that I’m aware of don’t require much except your kid, a glass of water and maybe some cheddar Goldfish. But then it’s always possible that I’m hanging with the wrong crowd, and by wrong crowd, I mean not with Bill Gates’ kids.
Basically, it’s only fair to share the responsibilities and wreckage that comes with kids’ playdates. And while we all certainly want to put our best foot forward, sometimes just putting out an unshaved leg with non-manicured toes is all it takes for everyone to be happy.