Now that summer is officially here I decided to do my spring-cleaning. Before you get the impression that I’m only a little late on this annual cleaning event, let me just say that for me, it is more of a decade event.

Though I am not a complete slob — I do get the basics of tidying things up taken care of — I am definitely not a domestic goddess.

I used to work with a domestic goddess, a dear friend who always amazed me on her enjoyment of cleaning. On Monday mornings when we discussed how our weekends went I would tell her about a book I read or some place or event my husband and I enjoyed. Not once in all the years we worked together did I ever tell her about a weekend cleaning frenzy. There was nothing to tell on that front.

Mary Ann, on the other hand, would tell me about cleaning her cupboards or stripping her floors or hoeing out her closets. On top of such intense household chores she baked, went shopping and worked in her flower garden.

Mary Ann’s concept of cleaning and mine were miles apart. When she said she cleaned her cupboards she really cleaned her cupboards, taking everything out, discarding what was no longer needed, reorganizing what was needed and even washing the cupboards down.

For me, my cupboards are hiding places where I stash the junk that I can’t quite part with but don’t have a clue what I will do with.

This past week, for whatever reason I can’t really say, I became Mary Ann and cleaned everything including the cupboards. I have no idea how many years worth of leftover Halloween candy I had been hiding on a top shelf, but it was a significant quantity.

I also have no idea how many years it’s been since I washed the woodwork in my kitchen, which is almost all woodwork, but let me tell you that was a chore I don’t want to do again for at least another decade.

I wondered more than once while I scrubbed the grease, grime and stuff I couldn’t identify off the white woodwork if the kitchen would be too dark if I painted everything black.

I know that if I were more like my friend Mary Ann and spent the time keeping on top of the cleaning this wouldn’t be such a backbreaking ordeal, but darn, there are so many good books to read and so little time for cleaning.

Now that everything is done and my home sparkles I’m very proud of myself. The only problem is that I don’t want to do anything to mess the place up. I’d rather not do any cooking because there are bound to be spills and spatters. Unfortunately, I can’t afford to do take-out everyday.

I love my grandchildren dearly and have always let them have the run of the house. It’s amazing how much of a mess these kids can make in a short period of time, but I have always indulged them anyway.

Now I feel compelled to strip them down the instant they come into the house and put them in sanitized biohazard suits and park them on the sofa.

I bark at anyone coming into the house to take their shoes off even though winter is long gone and there is no fear of tracking in snow or mud. I go around behind them to wipe up any spills that may slop from a coffee cup.

And my poor husband, I put a drop cloth around wherever he is.

No question, I’m a much nicer person when my house is a mess. I don’t know how my friend Mary Ann managed to keep such a clean house and still be a nice person, but she did.

I’m sure things will be back to a messy normal in no time and I’ll be my sweet self again. The way I see it I should just post a sign at the front door, “I cleaned my house last week. Sorry you missed it.”