The Merriam-Webster dictionary defines cleaning as “to rid of dirt, impurities, or extraneous matter.” Let’s be honest, everyone’s definition of “clean” is a little different. For some, it means spotless perfection; for others (like me), it means shoving things into a drawer and calling it a day. Then there’s spring cleaning, that mythical time of year when we suddenly feel the urge to scrub, dust, and question our life choices.    

     While keeping the kitchen and bathrooms clean is a daily chore, I often find that other areas of the house tend to accumulate clutter, waiting for a day when I finally feel motivated to tackle them. That day seems to come every spring!  Usually, it is a weekend when I am not working, a day when I wake up and enjoy my cup of tea sitting next to a wide-open window that lets the warm breeze in.  That rush of fresh air against my cheek miraculously awakens my dormant cleaning skills.

     I jump up from my seat and head to the bedroom. I draw back the drapes and open the windows, letting in both sunlight and fresh air. I strip the bed, tossing the sheets and comforter into the washing machine along with a Tide Pod infused with stain remover and the fresh scent of Spring Meadow. Soon, with the crisp air drifting through the window and the lovely fragrance lingering in the fabric, our bed will smell like we’re sleeping in a spring meadow.

     I dust off the bureaus, along with the often-overlooked spots on top of the television and cable box. The drawer handles are similarly dirty, which is corrected by one sweep of my dust cloth. The backboard of the bed also gets dusted. Using a damp cloth, I clean the many remote controls on the bureau.  Then, armed with Windex, I tackle the mirrors on the wall-to-wall closet, mirrors I usually avoid because, for some reason, they insist on making me look thirty pounds heavier than I really am.

     I sprinkle a generous coating of Arm & Hammer carpet freshener onto the rug, then use my foot to swish it back and forth, ensuring it sinks deep into the lower fibers. I will have Hubby vacuum that up later.

    With the bed still unmade, I climb up with my feather duster to tackle the layer of dust that has settled on the ceiling fan.  Down below, I check under the bed to ensure all our clear plastic storage boxes are neatly arranged.

     As the last act of spring cleaning in the bedroom, I carefully make the bed, I ensure the sweet-smelling sheets are tucked in tightly lest they come loose at the corners during my nightly leg thrusts and turnovers. The comforter and pillow shams are neatly arranged back in place. Giddily, I then set our two beloved stuffed animals on the bed: a Winnie the Pooh from our early days of marriage and Buc-ee the Beaver, a treasured keepsake from one of our favorite stops on our trips to Florida. Of course, they are placed in the middle of the pillows, arm in arm (or paw in paw?)

     After an intense battle with dust bunnies, (eliminated just before Easter,) and a mirror that refuses to flatter me, my bedroom is finally spring-cleaned to perfection. The air smells like a delightful mix of spring meadow with just a hint of industrial-strength carpet freshener. The bed is crisp, the pillows are fluffed, and Pooh and Buc-ee sit proudly in the middle, holding onto each other and looking like the official mascots of our marriage. I step back to admire my work, feeling accomplished, until I glance at the closed closet door. With a dramatic sigh, I decide that THAT is a task for NEXT spring.