Dave Barry Quotes

Because I'm always away, coming home to a clean house means a lot to me. Trust me, I've lived with a lot of roommates, and straight guys are just kids who don't pick up after themselves.

I have a problem getting all my laundry done, cleaning up and doing all of the normal daily things that a grownup should do.

A certain amount of housekeeping also goes on in my poems. I wash doorknobs, do dishes, mop floors, patch carpets, cook.

I don't get rattled about the big things. I get rattled when I have to pick up my laundry, get gas in the car, pick up a script.

I learned how to cook and do a lot of marital things.

I don't have a dishwasher, and I hate washing dishes.

I love to clean. I love to cook.

I could be a housewife... I guess I've vacuumed a couple of times.

I'm horrible to live with. I don't clean. My clothes end up wherever I take them off. I forget to flush the toilet.

You do not get gold stars for cleaning your toilet. In actual life, there is a depressing lack of stickers.

When I go home, I still have to clean my room; I still have to do the dishes. We have somebody come every now and then to do that stuff, but my mom still makes me clean before she comes.

I do the laundry. I do the shopping. I do the dishes.

Sunday is the day I do my laundry and clean. I'm always trying to get rid of stuff. Truthfully? I have a housekeeper that comes once a month, and I tend not to make things too messy for her. But I do have clothes everywhere.

I don't do dishes, and I don't cook, either! Everything else, I can do!

domestic work is the most elementary form of labor. It is suitable for those with the intelligence of rabbits. All it requires is cleanlines, tidiness and quickness - not moral or intellectual qualities at all, but merely the outward and visible signs of health.

For a single woman, preparing for company means wiping the lipstick off the milk carton.

Cleanliness is not next to godliness. It isn't even in the same neighborhood. No one has ever gotten a religious experience out of removing burned-on cheese from the grill of the toaster oven.

My wife always asks me why I don't make the bed. And I respond with the same reason why I don't tie my shoes after I take them off.

It's being a grown up, which I never figured out how to do, scrubbing the tub, and remembering to eat and shampoo my hair. It's the basics: I can write a whole book, but I cannot handle the basics.

Across the curve of the earth, there are women getting up before dawn, in the blackness before the point of light, in the twilight before sunrise; there are women rising earlier than men and children to break the ice, to start the stove, to put up the pap, the coffee, the rice, to iron the pants, to braid the hair, to pull the day's water up from the well, to boil water for tea, to wash the children for school, to pull the vegetables and start the walk to market, to run to catch the bus for the work that is paid. I don't know when most women sleep.

We are a nation of 20 million bathrooms, with a humanist in every tub.

But housekeeping is fun. It is one job where you enjoy the results right along as you work. You may work all day washing and ironing, but at night you have the delicious feeling of sunny clean sheets and airy pillows to lie on. If you clean, you sit down at nightfall with the house shining and faintly smelling of wax, all yours to enjoy right then and there. And if you cook—that creation you lift from the oven goes right to the table.

It's hard for your mom to tell you she has an oral fixation and has to have something in her mouth. My step dad is in the kitchen winking at me. You down with OPP, yeah you know me. Exciting is and a special... What? Easy, and why do you know all the words? That's weird.

Time, which shows so vacant, indivisible, and divine in its coming, is slit and peddled into trifles and tatters. A door is to bepainted, a lock to be repaired. I want wood, or oil, or meal, or salt; the house smokes, or I have a headache; then the tax; and an affair to be transacted with a man without heart or brains; and the stinging recollection of an injurious or very awkward word,--these eat up the hours.

But the dust! And the clutter! My housewifely and scholarly instincts were equally offended.