If you have followed my column at all, you already know how much I hate housework. I mostly despise cleaning alone. I don’t mess it up by myself, so I shouldn’t have to clean it by myself. My daughters, though they’ve never had scheduled weekly chores, are more than willing to pitch in when I ask. They might not take initiative to clean something on their own – really, if I ask them to empty the dishwasher, they will, but won’t put in dirty dishes from the sink – however, they never complain about the state of anything. If they do, they will inherit the chore and it becomes their responsibility until they move out. It’s why my oldest daughter has to clean the bird cage. Needless to say, I encourage them to point out when I’ve dropped the tidy ball, but it doesn’t happen often. Go figure.

These days, with my daughters essentially adults, the house doesn’t get cluttered like it did when they were kids. They don’t leave toys lying around and they’ve set up their own bedrooms to be comfortable living quarters which they don’t find necessary to often leave.

When it’s time to clean, it’s mostly vacuuming, dusting, bathrooms, and floors. The kitchen is always clean because it’s the room I use the most, being the chief cook and bottle washer, and my day is ruined if I wake up to a messy kitchen. Laundry is always done because I do it once a week since my house is small and all I have is a laundry hall and no place to store dirty or clean clothes to be washed or folded.

At least once a week, I gather random items left on horizontal collection stations and distribute them to their rightful owners or put them away. Whenever I pick up, I always think of my oldest daughter as a toddler. One day, before her sister was even born, I was trying to entice her to put her toys in their proper bins. She said, “Why? We can just step over them.” My kids have been raised with my less-than-stellar housekeeping and they’ve learned to like it or do it themselves.

I’ve read books and followed domestic gurus online about the subject of cleaning, which is at least why the house isn’t impassable. But I just can’t bring myself to clean my toilet every day or squeegee my shower after I step out of it. Though I don’t mind cleaning the kitchen daily – we’ve got to eat off something – I don’t want to think about actual housework all the time. I have my priorities for the empty space in my head. Besides, I like bonding with my daughters on days we have to work together to prepare the house for company.

So now, when I recruit my daughters to help me deep clean, they automatically ask who’s coming over. This does give me pause and I wonder if I’ve done them wrong by not consistently giving them chores. Then I ponder how much more work it would have been for me to make sure they did those chores and the feeling passes.

Basically, the house is maintained and everyone accepts it as it is. Don’t get me wrong, you could walk into my house and feel comfortable without getting grossed out, but you may also feel better about your own home. So really, my lack of housekeeping is a form of community service. There’s more than one way to make a difference.

Gretchen Leigh is a stay-at-home mom who lives in Covington. You can read more of her writing and her blog on her website livingwithgleigh.com, on Facebook at “Living with Gleigh.”or follow her on Twitter @livewithgleigh. Her column is available every week at maplevalleyreporter.com under the Lifestyles section.