THE UNIVERSAL LANGUAGE OF CLEAN

Wednesday, September 06, 2006

"Hello?"

"Yes, this Esther. You Greg's neighbor?"

"Yes... oh hi Esther, thanks for calling us back."

"I come clean you house. I be there 8 o'clock, yes?"

"Well, if you come that early, you might run into our houseguests who are still going to be here from the weekend. But they won't mind if you don't."

Silence. "I be there 8 o'clock, yes?"

Shoot. I knew I should have taken Spanish instead of French. "Yes."

Our house hasn't really been clean -- not truly clean -- since we moved in the first box coated with a fine layer of Chicago February dust. And it's been compounded by many a house guest. So Esther cleaned for 6.5 hours.

It gleams. It shines. She cleaned dirt off things that now appear to be a slightly different color than they once were.

Before Esther left, she said, "Is clean." And I said, "Yes, is clean." And we stood for a moment of revered silence looking at ourselves in the shiny floor. And it didn't matter that she didn't speak English. She spoke Clean. And it was good.