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"Women excel at housework," Loud Mouth insisted, leaning into the statement with a sly grin. "Right, Lori? You clean houses, you're good at it, but you should focus on your own, right? Your man is the breadwinner. Right?" he crowed with a puffed man's chest, raising his beer can for emphasis.
Later at home, Lori retreated to the backyard to stew and process. What were her options? She didn't want to talk it over with her fiancé. He had to work with the guy. The collective wives ignored him, but he didn't target them, just her.
The next day, Lori arrived at a weekly housecleaning job still stewing, unsure how best to manage her Loud Mouth reactions. Should she confront him, ignore him, or? Taking up her duster, she entered a quiet reflection zone, gently dusting the surfaces before the second stage, firmly wiping, transitioning to scrubbing, followed by pushing and pulling, vacuuming and mopping, and moving heavy items. What if she dusted Loud Mouth's surface? Would there be other layers for cleaning and refreshing?
Lori addressed the windows with a Windex bottle, a squeegee, and three rags tucked into her waistline. Each spray pump action hit the glass, creating a pattern, then she cleared vertical pathways with her red rubber blade, wiping its edge after each swipe. Finally, she used #1 Rag to absorb excess water drops, #2 Rag to polish the trim, and #3 Rag to…
