Like many people I claim to be too busy to take on household chores, instead opting to lounge around on weekends rather than get things done.
Despite being known as a cheapskate, there are things I will splurge on. In fact, earlier this summer I had a bunch of people working at my house doing the things I have no interest in doing.
But along with that comes a level of trust. These are strangers coming into my home: moving my things, cleaning my things, touching my things. Not to say that I am a control freak (which I am), but just because someone works for a company isn’t enough for me to put 100 per cent trust in them.
When I hired a housekeeping company, I couldn’t rest on the Google reviews and positive comments I saw on Facebook. They encourage you to leave your keys and let them work their magic while you are out of the house. I can’t do that. I can’t.
Because I have two hyper dogs, I used that as my reason to be at the house when the new cleaning crew arrived.
Last weekend I had a scheduled house cleaning. I was somewhat embarrassed because of dog fur that piled up in corners of rooms and under furniture. I comforted myself in the fact that my place doesn’t look as bad as what you see on the TV show Hoarders so it wasn’t quite a disaster zone.
I told the employee that she was my motivation for cleaning my office and tidying up. I would have felt guilty if she was cleaning and I sat with my feet up. So, as she got to work, I also spent time organizing my office.
I will admit that she made the bathroom and living room spotless. She spent hours cleaning everything and it looked good. I felt so good that while fixing up my office I gave her some swag that had piled up from a recent work trip. (I’m given free stuff all the time and if I have no use for it it’s thrown in a closet.)
We were developing a great rapport. I thought it was the start of a good working relationship. Until I noticed it. I couldn’t believe it.
When she finished the job, I went around the house for a closer inspection. It was then that I discovered she broke a fridge magnet. It was left on the kitchen table in pieces.
Before you call me petty for getting worked up about a $6 souvenir, it was the fact that she didn’t say anything about it breaking. She didn’t confess to what happened. How do I know it was her? She was the only one in the kitchen the entire day. (Earlier I did hear what I thought was something breaking but assumed if that’s what happened, she would have come to me in the moment.)
Maybe she felt uncomfortable bringing it to my attention. Maybe she meant to but was just in a hurry on the way out. I’m not sure the reason but to not say anything after a day with my belongings, I felt it disrespectful.
It’s been two days since she cleaned my house and I haven’t had a text, email or call following up on my service. Oh, I just wait for them to spam me with a “How’d we do?” email. All bets are off at that point.