Working Out is Fun...Or Not!

Today, I was unable to get to the gym for my usual Tuesday Step class. Correction - my usual Body Step Class. "Body Step" is for those of us who go to the gym for a cardiovascular workout, while "Step" is for those of us who plan to try out for a spot in a Janet Jackson video. I have occasionally made the mistake of attending a Step class (go figure). At best, I end up mired in frustration because I cannot dance. At worst, I twist an ankle and fall off my step. Yes, this is just as embarrassing as it sounds. Body step eliminates the complicated dance moves, and incorporates some good old fashioned squats and lunges in there. My ass has misinterpreted the intent and decided to bulk up, apparently. My ass has always been a slow learner. Se la vi.

So, today: Instead of my relatively fun class, I came home and cleaned with a frenzy. I scrubbed the toilet, swept and mopped the floors, scoured the shower, cleaned the mirrors, did some laundry, emptied the litter box, and tidied the apartment. And, according to "fit day", I burned 353 calories. No sweat! (Well...maybe a little.)

As I cleaned the bathrooms, I came to the realization that Adam has never done this since we have lived together. As with this last three months of non-cleaning, I have tested him on several occasions, and I just cannot beat him. I cleaned today due to absolute disgust with the state of the bathroom, and after a few days (ok, a week) of telling myself that I will definitely tackle the job after work. Men do not apparently have this threshold. As I continued to breathe in the toxic fumes of cleaning chemicals, it occurred to me that Adam is not alone. Nearly all men I have met have this ability to withstand potty germs. My friends from college had consistently gross bathrooms, or girlfriends who regularly cleaned. My brother and his roommates had no qualms about a toilet that involved hands in toilet water to flush. I have met men who will wear flip-flops in the shower before they even consider cleaning it.

The fumes continued to irritate my innards, and I realized that this phenomenon is not limited to my generation. I have never seen my father clean the bathroom. Nor have I witnessed my uncles or grandfathers with toilet wand in hand. One grandfather had his own shower in the basement, and I remember that he named the stains. Look, he would say, this one looks like Mickey Mouse. This did not strike me as odd when I was a kid. But now I see. The ability to clean a bathroom may be one that is lost to the male species. It happened long ago, and we women have not noticed because we women do not don flip flops in the face of mold.

I rose from my task determined. I will re-teach this skill to the men of the World! One man at a time. First lesson - chlorine and ammonia work best* when combined for Ultra Cleaning Power!
*Just to be clear, this is really not a good idea. So don't sue me if you failed Chemistry in high school!!