July 5: Secret Slob, Cleaning, Fairy Tale Friday

You remember I said before that Ackley was a slob in his personal habits?  Well, so was Stradlater, but in a different way.  Stradlater was more of a secret slob.  He always looked all right, Stradlater, but for instance, you should've seen the razor he shaved himself with.  It was always rusty as hell and full of lather and hairs and crap.  He never cleaned it or anything.  He always looked good when he was finished fixing himself up, but he was a secret slob anyway, if you knew him the way I did...

I am not a secret slob.  I don't like dirty things.  Every Friday, I have to clean my house.  Scrub the bathroom.  Vacuum the carpets.  Sweep and mop the hardwood floors.  Dust the tables and chairs.  I can't explain it, but I can't really relax until I get all that stuff done.  On Friday night, when I sit down on the couch, I like to see everything in order, the air smelling like lemon and Lysol.  It makes me feel ready for the weekend.

This morning, I got up with my son at 9:30 a.m.  Since he was up until past midnight watching fireworks, my four-year-old gave me a little present:  about three extra hours of sleep.  I set my son up on the couch with Dinosaur Train on PBS, and then I got to work.  I was ambitious, so I decided to tackle a project that had been on my mind for a while.  I cleaned out my back porch.  It was not an easy job.  It took about a half hour, but I'm happy to report that I now can see the floor.

The rest of the house cleaning took me about another hour-and-a-half.  Then I went for a run.  It was over 80 degrees, and after a half hour, I couldn't stop sweating.  It felt fantastic.  I shaved (with a very clean razor) and took a shower.  I also like to look clean and orderly.  It was a very productive morning.

I have a little fairy tale for you today.

Once upon a time, there was a royal butler named Flannel.  Flannel loved to clean.  In the morning, when he woke up, he stripped his bed and washed his blankets and pillows.  After breakfast, he washed his breakfast dishes and every other dish he owned.  Then he went to the bathroom and scrubbed it from ceiling to floor with Lysol and Pine Sol.  Then he took a shower and got dressed.

Before he left for work at the palace, he swept, dusted, mopped, and washed every piece of furniture, every floor and wall and ceiling.

One morning, as he butlered for the king, he noticed that his majesty had not showered that morning.  The king had incredible body odor.   Flannel could barely contain his disgust.

"Sir," Flannel said, clearing his throat, "perhaps his majesty would like to freshen up before the royal stroll through the gardens."

"Nope," the king said, wiping his fingers on his shirt.  He'd just finished some fried chicken.  "I'm good to go, Flanny."

"Flannel, sir," Flannel said.  "Flannel.  I was just thinking you might be a little more...uh...presentable if you smelled a little less like..."

The king glared at Flannel.  "Yes?"

"With all due respect, sir," Flannel said.  "You smell like a dead camel on a hot day."

Flannel was decapitated that afternoon, and the king's stable manager took over as royal butler.

Moral of the story:  when you eat fried chicken, make sure you have a napkin.

And Saint Marty lived happily ever after.

It's finger lickin' good