Dedicated to Michelle's cousin. Thanks for the title!
"I always knew that men were slobs, but you get the blue ribbon, Mike."
I looked over at my Aunt Diane as she surveyed my living room Beside her, my Uncle Frank was quietly laughing. He rolled his eyes and turned away from his wife as she lectured me.
"I'm not a slob. My place just has that lived-in look," I countered.
"Yeah -- lived-in by a pig," she retorted.
I laughed. I also begrudgingly admitted to myself that my aunt was right, but I did not care. I lived alone, like I had done since graduating from university, and saw no reason to change in order to meet someone else's standards. Besides, the adage about not being able to teach an old dog new tricks applied to me. At thirty-seven I was not going to change, nor did I want to.
My aunt walked the perimeter of the room, like a drill sergeant inspecting a soldiers' barracks. Her mouth was twisted in a distasteful sneer as she looked at an empty pizza box on the coffee table and several empty beer cans beside it.
"Don't even get me started on your bathroom, Mike. When I went up to use it earlier I had to hover over the seat. And don't you ever scrub your tub?"
My uncle had folded his arms and stepped back from his wife, obviously not wanting to get involved with her critique of my house. But there was still a smirk on his face.
Uncle Frank was my dad's younger brother. He and my aunt had been married going on twenty-five years. They had two daughters: Jennifer, who was just past twenty-two, and Michelle, who would be turning nineteen in three months. Both daughters still lived at home with their parents. Michelle had just completed her first year of college and had returned home just a couple of weeks previously.
"You need a maid, Mike," my aunt suggested.
"I'm doing just fine without one," I told her.
My aunt let out a frustrated sigh. She seemed almost angry at me for not being a good housekeeper. After several seconds of silence, while I waited for her to begin her criticism again, her green eyes widened and she smiled.
"I have an idea," she said. "How about you get Michelle to come in once a week to clean and --"
"No, I don't need that, Aunt Diane," I interrupted.
"Hear me out," she snapped, holding up a hand "You can get Michelle to come in once a week to clean and tidy the place up for you. It will benefit both of you because she hasn't found a summer job yet and could use some spending money. She won't want much for cleaning up and you won't have to lift a finger -- not that you do anyway, but at least your house will be clean. If you ever brought a women back here, she'd turn and run as soon as she got as far as the kitchen."
I sighed, knowing my aunt was right. It had been a while since I had dated, but I was well aware of women's standards for cleanliness. Having a clean house to bring someone back to would be good. Plus having someone else do the cleaning would be an added bonus.
"Okay. Tell her the job is her's if she's interested, but don't force her into it, okay?"
"I won't have to," my aunt assured me. "She'll be glad for the work."
My aunt disappeared into my kitchen. I heard her opening and closing cupboards. A few minutes later she returned and handed me a slip of paper.
"Here's a list of cleaning supplies you'll need. You can find them at the grocery store."
"I know where to find them," I said, sounding indignant.
"You'd never know it by the looks of this place," she retorted.
My uncle's laughed, then tightened his jaw.
"When do you want me to tell Michelle to come over?" she asked.
I thought for a moment. "Saturday would be great, if she's not busy. I'll be at work the rest of the week."
"Fine. I'll tell her."
###
That Friday evening after I ate I went to the grocery store, my aunt's shopping list in hand. I had not realized that my supply of cleaning products was so low, but judging from the list I needed everything from a new mop to disposable towels for wiping counters. One by one I tossed the items in my shopping cart, then added a six-pack of beer for myself.
Once I had accepted it, the thought of my cousin coming over to clean my house seemed like a good idea. Michelle and I were not especially close due to our age differences -- we only saw one another at weddings and the occasional family barbeque during the summer -- but I liked her and we always got along well. The arrangement seemed mutually beneficial and I was glad that I had taken my aunt up on her offer.
That Saturday I slept late, like I did every weekend. I was just finishing my breakfast when I heard a knock at the door. It was not quite ten-thirty. I looked up and saw Michelle peering through the window of the door. I jumped up to let her in.
"Hi, I hope I'm not too early," Michelle said. "Mom told me you'd probably be sleeping-in since it's the weekend."
I nodded, giving my cousin a grin. "Yeah, I only got up less than an hour ago," I said.
"Well, I won't get in your way. Just show me where the cleaning stuff is. Mom said she gave you a list." She laughed, as though she understood how thorough her mother could be.
"It's over here. I hope I got everything." I gestured towards the counter where I had placed the things I had purchased. In a corner was a brand new mop and pail.
"Geez, did she make you get enough stuff, or what?" My cousin shook her head and laughed.
Michelle was wearing a grey hooded sweatshirt with a zipper running down the middle. It was zipped half-way up. Her honey-blond hair hung down over her shoulder blades and chest. It looked shiny, as though she had just washed it. I was sure I could even detect the faint scent of hair conditioner. In the deep V of her open sweatshirt I noticed a bright blue t-shirt. It matched her piercing sapphire eyes. It had a scoop neck, leaving the edges of her collar bones and upper chest bare. I followed her golden tresses down from her shoulders to the hint of cleavage showing just above the neckline of her t-shirt. Beneath that, her conical breasts pushed out at the fabric. They were pert, maybe slightly more than good handfuls, and looked firm enough to crack an egg on. She looked so pretty even how she carried her five-foot seven body was graceful and seductive.
