Seven Minutes in Heaven

Published by Laurie on Tagged Home, Family, Life, Midlife

Last night I experienced seven minutes in heaven. Seven minutes of pure bliss. I couldn’t stop smiling. I was glowing from head to toe.  I felt like all was right with the world.  I usually experience these seven minutes every Friday night. The kids are out with their friends and my husband and I have the house all to ourselves, and I have noticed that the older I get, the more pleasure I get from each experience. Now you can get your mind out of the gutter.  I’m not talking about THAT  kind of heaven, besides, my husband is an atheist, he doesn’t believe in heaven, and I suspect that if he did, he would be personally offended at seven minutes.  He would insist my description be no less than twenty.

What I am referring to is the seven heavenly minutes that my house looks, smells, and IS immaculate after I have just spent 6 hours, non-stop, cleaning it. (Hey, where are you going?  This is exciting stuff. You can read about sex anywhere on the web, this is truly an orgasmic experience for me) 

OK, where was I?  Oh yeah.  Seven minutes is the absolute record. Sometimes I just get five or six but it’s still just as magnificent.  It’s the period of time that my entire home is unadulterated with any form of clutter, dirt, hair or crumbs. It’s the magical, beautiful “window” before someone makes a sandwich on the counter and leaves the crumbs, before my son decides to fry something greasy on the stove, before my husband decides to trim his beard in our bathroom and leaves the little hairs everywhere, before my daughter places multiple cans and cups on the end-tables to produce enough rings to create a sticky Olympics Logo.   It’s the time before one of the cats decides to hock up a hairball, before the dog decides to lie on the micro-fiber sofa and leave half of his fur coat behind.  (helpful tip: do not EVER buy micro-fiber anything if you have pets).  It’s the time I bask in the glory that is a pristine house. 

For those few moments, I look out my windows and see clearly my un-landscaped yard, without having the view marred by doggie nose-prints.  I smile as the dog looks into the sparkling, ring-less toilet bowl and partakes of the crisp, clear, Lysol-fragrant toilet water.  I sit down on the hairless chair, looking out, surveying the awe-inspiring spotlessness, drinking up each moment, as I dreamily repeat over and over to my husband.  “Doesn’t the house look good?”  To which he dutifully replies, “Yes honey, it does”. 

I’m sure these seven minutes are just as glorious for him as they are for me.  He has finally finished listening to me muttering, “these kids are pigs”, “someone needs to be brushing this dog”, this is ridiculous, does anyone know how to pick up after themselves?” and  “this is house is filthy!”  for the previous six hours. 

These are the minutes where all that dust has settled, and all of the other dust has been obliterated.  It’s wonderful, it’s marvelous, I can hardly describe it…. it’s heaven.

Stumble it!

September 15th, 2007