Friends and Clean Houses

I worry about what my kids' friends think of our house. Keeping it clean is not on the top of my priority list most days, and so I am not as good as I should be when it comes to letting them have friends over. What will they think about Mrs. Hilbrecht? What will their parents think after they have dropped off/picked up their kids?

"That Sharron Hilbrecht...she's nice enough, but man, she keeps a lousy house!"

I know I shouldn't obsess about it, but I do. I didn't care what my friends' houses looked like when I was a kid. Everybody's families had different standards, and we all just accepted what was what.

My two best friends, Susan and Jill, for example, had wildly different houses, and it didn't matter a single bit to our friendships. Susan's house was built in the 50s during the baby boom. It was your typical 3 bedroom ranch with a living room, kitchen, and while I only remember one bathroom, there must have been more, because she was one of 5 girls, and I can't imagine 5 girls and one bathroom.

Susan's dad had died when she was little. She and I became best friends by the time we were five, and he does not exist in my memory, so he must have passed away before then. Her mom worked in the cafeteria in our school, and her four older sisters mostly told us what to do. Her house was always busy with sisters and friends. I remember the kitchen table piled high with homework, laundry, groceries, whatever. The counter may or may not have had dishes on it depending on the time of day, but they didn't have a dishwasher (her mom said she had five built-in dishwashers already, so why did she need to buy one?), so there were usually dishes in the sink either waiting to be washed or waiting to be put away.

The one car garage was detatched, and sometimes held their station wagon, and sometimes not depending on the amount of stuff being stored in it. There was a deck off the back, and we used to hang out on it with her sisters, if they were in a tolerant mood. Otherwise, we'd head to the basement to watch tv.

Susan shared a room with her sister, and I don't remember it being especially decorated or clean. We'd go in and plop on her bed and listen to records, do homework, or both. Her house was a second home to me, and I loved going there.

Jill's house, on the other hand, was built in the late 70s. Her parents had moved out of a teeny tiny slab house when we were early in our grade school years, and into this brand new tri-level, three bedroom, two bath, beauty. It had a living room, dining room, kitchen, family room, and two baths. It was always spotless. Jill's dad worked at Ford, and her mom was a nurse. They had eloped, eloped, when they were eighteen, and then had her brother and her. They were so young in my mind, maybe in their late 20s, maybe 30, and so hip compared to my other friends' parents. Their truck and her mom's car were always parked in the two car garage along with bikes, tools, and sports equipment all organized neatly to create enough room for everything.

We had to take our shoes off when we went into Jill's house, and mostly had to try and walk on the plastic carpet runners throughout her house. Her living room was free of furniture for the first few years, and we liked to do gymnastics in there whenever we could. The family room had the coolest phone. It was one of those from the bicentennial that was like the old fashioned kind where you speak into the base and hold the ear piece to your head to hear. It was red, white, and blue, and just so magnificent. I wanted a phone like that and tried to call home every time I went to Jill's just so I could use it.

It was at Jill's house that I met my first microwave. We heated water in it to make hot chocolate. To make it go, you had to turn the dial past "2 minutes" and then back to whatever time you needed. It was loud, and I remember being afraid that it would do something to the water that would cause cancer or something later. We put popcorn in a paper bag and popped it in the microwave, being careful to turn down the opening just right so the popcorn wouldn't spill out into the microwave. It wasn't great, but it was novel and new, and made me think Jill's mom and dad just had it going on.

Jill had her own bedroom with a brass bed and pretty furniture. We couldn't play in it, but we could sit quietly on the bed, and sometimes we were allowed a game of Connect 4. There was wall-to-wall carpet on the floor and those plastic runners. At the time, I shared a room with my sister, and I was so jealous of Jill's room that I could spit.

Susan and Jill were my best friends for the entire 8 years of grade school. We did everything together. We had different rules, different family situations, different houses, and that was never a problem. It just was. I loved going to both of their houses and hanging out with them and making excellent memories wherever we were.

I am going to try to keep that in mind the next time one of the kids wants a friend over and the house is trashed. They are really not coming over to check out my housekeeping skills. They are coming to play with my children and make their own memories.

p.s. Jill and Susan, I love you both! We need a Charlie's Angels reunion real soon...