Dusting Off My Backbone

Well, I've done it. I finally fired the housekeepers. Don't think that I just managed to muster up the courage to finally express my dissatisfaction with their service. That would have been the adult thing to do. No, yesterday an opportunity presented itself and I jumped on it.

While cleaning the house in preparation for my husband's parents to visit, specifically keeping the bathrooms, the children's play room and the kitchen for the bleach queen to tackle, I looked at the clock. It was late, really late, and I'd not heard a peep from our cleaners. I called the service, left a message asking what happened and soon got a call back. They were running behind and weren't going to make it that afternoon. They'd be here first thing in the morning.

I jumped on this opportunity and told them that "unfortunately, that doesn't work for me." They needn't come tomorrow morning, and in fact, they need not come back at all, except to return the key. I had relied on them to be there, and they failed to show up, or even communicate that they were not going to make it. He protested slightly, then gave up.

Despite his efforts to keep me as a client I'm sure in the back of his mind he was thinking "Oh thank God I won't have to enter that house of filth again" because in the back of my mind I was thinking "Oh crap, now I have to find another house keeper!", but such is life.