I pick Kallan up from school and drop her off at our house. Mark is working from home, and so he has agreed to drive Kallan to her cheerleading practice so that I can go watch Maj run in a Cross-Country Meet. I’m gone for several hours, and then I am back home with Maj, who had a great race. Mark and Maj and I stand around in the kitchen, comparing the notes of our day, and then it is time for me to head out again, this time to pick Kallan up from cheerleading practice.
She hops into the car, and I lean to smooth her hair before pulling out of the parking lot, “Hey, babe. How was practice?”
“Fine.”
“Anything interesting happen I should know about?”
“Not at practice, but Daddy bought some cleaner.”
“You guys went out to the store before he took you to cheerleading?”
“Nope, he bought it from a guy who came to the door.”
“Huh. He so did not mention that to me when I saw him.”
“Probably because he knows he’s not supposed to buy stuff from door-to-door salesmen.”
“Daddy is not even allowed to listen to their pitches. Daddy is weak. Why did you let him answer the door?”
“Mom, how am I supposed to stop him from answering the door? I told him you were going to be crabby, but he just told me it would be our little secret.”
“He actually told you to keep it a secret? What is wrong with that man?”
“Probably he was thinking secrecy was better than telling you how much the bottle of cleaner cost.”
“What? How much did it cost?”
Kallan is gleeful, “Forty dollars! Can you believe it? Daddy wrote the man a check.”
“Are you kidding me? Forty dollars? This better be one gigantic crate of cleaner.”
“Yeah, he said you would be crabby. That’s why he asked me not to tell you.” She giggles, “It’s like he doesn’t even know me, Mom.”
I sigh, “So how much cleaner did he buy?”
“Just one bottle.” She holds her hands to indicate a bottle the size of a small container of Windex, “About this big.”
“Oh, for god’s sake.”
“It’s concentrated, though . . . so you are supposed to mix it with water. Although I don’t think the guy mixed it with water when he made all the clean spots.”
“Wait, what clean spots?”
She bounces with glee, “That’s the best part! Wait until you see, Mom . . . the man went all over the place cleaning tiny little spots with his magic cleaner. So there’s a tiny clean spot on our driveway and a tiny clean spot on our trailer and a tiny clean spot on the front porch railing and there’s a single tiny clean window and there’s a tiny clean spot on the walkway and a tiny clean spot on Daddy’s shoe.”
I am instantly alarmed, “But he didn’t let the man in the house, right? Please tell me the house is not filled with tiny spots of clean that only serve to point out the surrounding filth and shame me into doing the entire cleaning job and wait . . . did you say there is a tiny clean spot on Daddy’s shoe?”
“You should have seen it, Mom. The guy bent down in front of Daddy and cleaned a small spot on his gym shoe. Daddy was swooning with cleaner-wantitude by that point.”
“Your daddy is a weak weak man.”
“Just as well hookers don’t go door to door, right?”
I turn to look at her, “What did you say?”
She thinks for a second, “Ummm . . . nothing inappropriate, that’s for sure.”
“So this cleaning-product salesman . . . was he at least working for some fundraiser? Is our money at least going to something worthwhile?”
“If a man’s pocket counts as something worthwhile, then yes.” Kallan startles as she suddenly remembers, “Oh yeah! Daddy did say something about how if you found out, I was supposed to tell you the guy was raising money for our school.”
“Your daddy is in big trouble.”
Kallan pulls up her knees and hugs herself in anticipatory glee, “Wait until you see the clean spots, Mom.”
We pull up into the driveway, and Kallan leaps from the car, pointing out the tiny amazingly clean and therefore extremely irritating spots . . . one on the driveway’s surface, one on the side of the trailer, one on the walkway, one on the railing. Each of these small clean spots scream of the contrast between clean and filth, and every small clean spot annoys me. I walk up the steps and peer through the single sparkly small pane of glass at Mark, who is sitting at the dining-room table reading the paper. I knock at the glass, and he looks up at me and waves, the picture of innocence.
I raise my eyebrows questioningly and pantomime writing a check.
His features rearrange themselves into incredulity, and he speaks loudly enough that I can hear him from within the house, “Seriously? She told on me? Before you even got home? Seriously?” He opens the door and glares at Kallan, “Seriously?”
She skips past him and into the house, “It’s like you don’t even know me, Daddy.”
Mark turns back to me, “He was an awesome salesman! We need this cleaner! Besides, it was for a good cause! He was raising money for the school!”
“Mmm hmmm. Forty dollars for a bottle for a cleaner, babe?”
“It’s concentrated!” He turns to glare at Kallan again, “You told her how much I paid?”
Kallan shrugs, “No point to the story without the complete public shaming.”
Mark puts his hands on his hips, a decision made, “Well, I am never telling you a secret again.”
“Probably wise, Daddy.”
I glance down at Mark’s gym shoes, “Oooh, that tiny clean spot on the rubber of your shoe is amazing! That’s worth like $35.00 right there. I was ever so concerned that I would never again be able to make those shoes shine like new! Wow, what is this miracle product?”
Mark is pleased, “Right?” but then he looks at me, “Wait, are you being sarcastic?”
Kallan helps him out, “Stuff like this is why you are not supposed to answer the door to salespeople, Daddy.” She skips out of the room.
I sigh, “Seriously, babe. Either go clean the rest of your shoes or I’m bringing in a handful of dirt to rub on the clean spot. Your shoes need to be either clean or dirty . . . you cannot walk around making a statement about what they could look like if someone would take the time to clean them.”
“Alright.” He looks at his shoes, “Yeah, I guess that makes sense.”
“And then we’ll talk about all the other jobs the nice kneeling man started for you.”
Mark turns to me in confusion, “Wait, what?”
Maj appears out of nowhere, “Daddy, please tell me that the rumors of you paying forty dollars to a door-to-door salesman for a bottle of cleaner are untrue. Because if this is true? YOU HAVE GONE INSANE! MONEY DOES NOT GROW ON TREES, YOUNG MAN!”
Kallan scoots through the room and plucks the bottle of cleaner out from under the kitchen sink, “Look, Maj. I told you so! This! This is what Daddy bought for forty dollars!”
“DADDY, WHAT DO YOU HAVE TO SAY FOR YOURSELF? MOTHER, HAVE YOU CHASTISED HIM? HE KNOWS HE IS NOT TO TALK TO SALESPEOPLE! WE HAVE TOLD HIM THIS! DADDY IS WEAK WHERE SALESPEOPLE ARE CONCERNED. WHY DID NO ONE STOP HIM?”
Mark turns to Kallan, “Seriously, I am never telling you a secret again.”
Kallan shrugs, “Probably wise, Daddy.”
“WHAT IF SOMEONE CAME TO THE DOOR SELLING HAMSTER FARMS? WOULD YOU BUY A HAMSTER FARM JUST BECAUSE THE SALESMAN BENT DOWN AND RUBBED A HAMSTER ON YOUR FOOT?”
Mark has nothing to say.
Maj does, “BECAUSE I FOR ONE DO NOT WANT TO LIVE ON A HAMSTER FARM!”
Hee hee.
