Writing Samples

Opinion

Sometimes you have to learn the hard way....

I am not a big fan of yard sales, but if stopping isn't too inconvenient I will go in an snoop around.
This past summer I dropped by one. In addition to all the outdated clothes, hideous china, unwanted crepe pans and fondue sets I came across an electric floor polisher.
The memory of my grandparents polishing their kitchen floor with just such a polisher came to mind. My grandparent's home, as most Dutch homes seem to be, was spotless. Perhaps such a polisher would be key on my (futile) journey to spotlessness. So I doled out the $3 without dickering and brought it home.
I first attacked the kitchen floor with plans to hit the bathrooms and entrance ASAP. I applied the paste wax as directed and whirred it to a mirror shine with my $3 find.
The floor was worthy of a linoleum ad in a glossy magazine. It more than shone--it had a drip, glop, and goop dyfing glow.
My husband and children arrived on the scene and I proudly showed them the floor. I felt I had reached the pinnacle of domesticity. That was until Jaba, our 12 year old German Shorthaired Pointer tried to cross the kitchen. It would have been kinder to put her on ice skates and pair her with Victor Kratz. We all consoled Jaba and checked for strains and sprains but she seemed fine.
Later that evening my son, in a hurry in his sock feet traversed the floor. He went down like someone had swept his feet out from under him, and whacked his head on the floor; more consolation, checking for bruises and strains.
For days afterwards the whole family complained about the slipperiness of the floor until the shine wore off. I now have no guilt about the stickiness of my kitchen floor. I keep the areas in front of the stove, fridge, sink and dishwasher extra sticky as these are obvious danger areas in any home. We had to learn the hard way. A dirty floor is a safe floor.