I hate cleaning. If given the choice between tidying my house or removing my own spleen with a pair of rusty pruning sheers, I’d honestly have to weigh the decision.
But it’s my turn to host book club, and though I’ve been with this group for over ten yeas, I like to think I can still fool them into believing I’m not a disgusting slob.
I’ve been dragging my feet on most of the chores but there’s one I look forward to two or three times a year.
I love rubbing lotion on my sofas.
I'm not talking Jergens hand cream, mind you. It’s some sort of fancy conditioner meant for leather furniture. When we bought the sofas six years ago, the sales clerk offered strict instructions for keeping them nice.
“Leather furniture can dry and crack in the high desert,” he warned. “Just like skin, you need to keep it supple and moist.”
Once I stopped giggling about the supple and moist thing, I gave in and bought the ridiculously expensive leather cleaning and conditioning kit.
It’s been well worth it.
I start by rubbing both sofa and loveseat with a special cleaning solution. Once they’re dry, I lube up a sponge with special conditioning lotion and carefully, gently massage it into every nook and cranny.
Then I stand back and watch.
Right before my eyes, the cushions start to plump. Little wrinkles vanish, and the whole sofa perks up like a pair of sweater potatoes with new silicone implants.
I swear I’ve considered rubbing the stuff on my face.
Porny sounding imagery aside, there's something so gratifying about tackling a task with such visible, instantaneous results. It's like a long run of writing where you watch your word count double in an hour, or the satisfying sensation of draining that wine glass down to empty.
Do you have any household chores you find oddly enjoyable? Are there tasks you undertake with your writing that give you more satisfaction than others? Please share!
And if you’re really nice, maybe I’ll let you rub lotion on my leather.