I have a child who had the hardest time learning to ride his bike. Siblings much younger than this sweet child of mine were racing up and down the street but he just couldn’t put all the pieces together. As traumatic experiences go, I guess it was mild, but it felt huge and stressful and potentially life-ruining for a very long time.
I made the mistake of trying to comfort him when he was struggling with something unrelated by saying, “Don’t worry, sweetie. It’s just like riding bike! It can be hard at first but once you get it, it will be easy for the rest of your life.”
Hello, Foot. Meet Mouth.
He replied, fairly enough, by saying, “So what you’re saying is that it’s going to be the hardest thing I have ever done in my life, I will struggle for years, and perhaps never succeed?” (I paraphrase. His comedic timing is much better than mine.)
The good news (in a the clouds parted and all the angels sang kind of way) is that he is now a bike riding master. In fact, 4/6 of my crew are training wheels-free and I know it’s only bike riding but I feel like it’s the biggest victory I’ve ever experienced in my entire life. Top 3, minimum.
Anyway, I bet you think I’m about to draw some analogy to how marriage is really, really hard in the beginning but then you figure it out and it becomes super easy and free of strife.
Hahahahahahaha. You’d never think that, would you?
No, today I’m talking about…window washing. I find window washing as difficult, frustrating, and unintuitive as my child found bike riding. Don’t even try to tell me that all I need is Windex and a cloth because that doesn’t work in my universe. The streaks! And the dirty corners! And the dust specks!
No, seriously. I’m trapped in some sort of window washing Purgatory and I’m desperate to get free. So, please (pretty with a cherry on top-style) get down on your knees, offer up your suffering, and leave all your brilliant advice in the combox.
Because as I mentioned yesterday, I’m in a rare spring cleaning-obsessed mood and these windows are harshing my mellow in a big, big way.
Thank you in advance, peaches. You’re the best. Always.