In my world, Thursday rocks. Every single week.
Because Thursday is when Berta y Lupe come. And they "re-set" my house. Back to 0. Back to neat and shiny and lemony.
And the house looks the way it should, but never does, except for 3pm on Thursdays, when they call out "Ok we leave!" and they drive off into Magic Cleaning-Lady Land in their green Prius.
I love them. I love how they pretend to like me. I love how they know the English word for "pay" but not "papertowel". I even love how they routinely misread the value of things, like putting magazine blowout cards in a cute little pile, or throwing out Pete the cocooning caterpillar from the kitchen windowsill, or tossing my Tag Heuer watch into the toybox.
It's OK, Berta y Lupe: Te Amo.
I love them so much I'm probably a little off in my imaginary translation of what they're saying.
Berta y Lupe: Esta casa es un lío.
Translation: This house is a pigsty.
My translation: Poor girl-her family makes such a mess.
Berta y Lupe:Hay tanto pelo en el cuarto de baño.
Translation: The amount of hair in the bathroom could create a new dog.
My translation: She looks so young to have three kids.
Berta y Lupe:¿Usted trajo su martillo perforador para la crema dental en el fregadero?
Translation: Did you bring your jackhammer for the toothpaste in the sink?
My translation: Doesn't she look so much like Heather Locklear?
I don't care what you're saying, Berta y Lupe...just please come back next Thursday. You complete me.