A cleaning disaster

I like tidy. Swept floors, furniture dusted. Ditto lamp shades and lamp bulbs. Clean counters, clean stove, clean bathroom. I’ve never held any grandchild’s room or bathroom to this standard, so Laura and I get through the common areas in half an hour a week.

I like convenience. I dust with a Swiffer duster. I use Windex on the stove and the microwave. I put a rust remover in my toilet tank, because our well water is rusty, and I like a white toilet.

Before the bathroom remodel in the old house, I still had a walk in shower, and water hard enough to leave soap scum. I kept the walls clean, but the glass door was another matter. About the most it got was a semi-annual date with heavy duty cleaner.

Then I discovered Scrubbing Bubbles automatic shower cleaner. The unit hung over the shower head. After a shower, push the button, exit, and eight or ten seconds later the unit sprayed magic stuff on the walls. It trickled down the water left from a shower, and cleaned. Visibly cleaned! Over time I watched the scaly mess on the shower door descend, descend, leave. My kinda stuff. 

It took four batteries. I didn’t care. I could get them to the recycle center. Every two or three years the unit’s little motor gave out. I felt a twinge tossing it to the landfill, but that didn’t outweigh my clean shower.

Since I discovered this little darling, about ten years ago, I’ve had to purchase three. Two for the old house, one of which came with me, and one new one for Laura’s bathroom.

My Scrubbing Bubbles died this week. I went on Amazon to buy a new one. They cost over two hundred dollars. I paid twenty for the last one. I opened a new tab and asked Google for a Scrubbing Bubbles cleaner. They are no longer manufactured.

I asked Google how I now can automatically clean my shower, and it returned a list of the top ten ways to automatically clean the shower. Everyone involved spraying the wet walls down before exiting. That’s right. Stand naked in the shower and spray Scrubbing Bubbles or its equivalent by hand.

Life as I know has not ended, but it certainly took a sharp turn. More post cards may be required.

Rest in Peace