Laziest way: Hire a housekeeper who doesn't speak your language (so they can't blab to all your friends about what a slob you are).
Lazies who want to make an effort: Get rid of all knickknacks—be honest, you never dust them and they cover your table surfaces that you need for piling papers on. When people ask you what you want for birthdays, Mother’s Day, etc., ask them to clean your house for a couple of hours or to hire someone to clean it. That way you get what you really want and you are making it known to everyone that you just can’t handle doodads in your house.
Laziest way: dine at a drive-thru.
Lazies who want to make an effort: it’s all about the crockpot and pre-washed salad, canned/frozen vegetables and prepackaged soup mixes. Never fall for those crockpot recipes that make you sauté or brown something first—we’re trying to save steps here. I am getting my “weight loss” crockpot recipes from a free weight loss site I joined (they give you a diet and track your weight—if you’re honest when plugging it in) at: http://www.sparkpeople.com/
Sorry, there’s no getting out of going to the grocery store. But if you’re buying a lot of frozen and pre-packaged, chemical laden foods like I suggested, you probably only have to do major grocery shopping once a month since that kind of food lasts forever!
5. Christmas/Hanukkah Cards
Laziest way: Don’t get a dog! They’ll urinate on your new wall-to-wall carpets and shed all over, making you look more of a slob than you actually are. Just learn to say, “No Dog!” to your kids. (Plus they might accidentally harm a young child--I was a afraid a dog would jump on my youngest daughter, Elizabeth, who was disabled.)
Lazies who want to make an effort: Offer to get your child an ant farm or some other small, confined creature. Not wanting to appear completely unyielding to my oldest daughter’s yearly pleas for a dog, I made her a promise: “If God brings a dog to our door, then you can have it.” Well, you can figure out what eventually happened! And of course, this 100-pound dog’s shaggy, black fur made cleaning an even bigger challenge for a lazy housekeeper like me (don't worry, he never did hurt Elizabeth but became her faithful couch companion instead). The following is an incident that happened when preparing for a “girls night out” gathering at my house:
Not wanting the gals to be disgusted by Riley’s kinky black hair wrapped around chair legs and rolling across the floors, I decided to do a thorough vacuuming job. I had to do it fast, however, because they were coming over within a half hour. The food was laid out, delicate wine glasses face up ready to be filled, and water and cinnamon was bubbling in a little blue pot on the stove to disguise the doggy smells.
Suddenly I had a brilliant idea! Our leaf blower could blast all the hair to one corner of the house in seconds! Then I could quickly gather it up. Energized by this innovative thought, I flung open the mudroom door that led directly into the garage. Beholding the machine that would clean my house in an instant, I wondered why no one else had ever thought of this before!
Collecting the leaf blower with its long, orange outdoor electrical cord, I dragged the contraption through the mudroom. Plugging it into a kitchen socket, I pondered a second career for myself—move over Martha Stewart! Adjusting the nozzle toward the floor, I flipped on the switch. The machine sprang to life with a loud resounding WOOSH. And POOF! The dog hair vanished. But not where I wanted it to go! It wasn’t racing tidily toward one corner of the house. Instead, fluffs of it flew high into the air. It landed on ceiling cobwebs and clung to them. Black hair also settled on top of the salsa, hummus, and tortilla chips and gently drifted into the wine glasses. Not exactly what I had planned!
I wiped as much of the hair off the table and counter surfaces as I could before my guests arrived. Just as I was blowing the hair off the food and out of the glasses, the doorbell rang. Once my friends were all seated, and had eaten their fill, I entertained them with the account of my leaf blower disaster. It felt great to make them laugh. I decided, however, that in order to keep the giggles going, it would be best not to burden them with the fact that I’d turned on the blower after their food and wine glasses were already laid out.
The account of Riley's hair and my leaf blower is an excerpt from Chapter 19 of my memoir, “Anything But a Dog! The perfect pet for a girl with congenital CMV (cytomegalovirus).” If you’d like to read Chapter 1 of “Anything But a Dog!” or see photos of Elizabeth and Riley relaxing together on my couch, visit: http://www.authorlisasaunders.com/