content with cleaning

I guess I'm not used to seeing this amount of people when I come home. Paquis was a discomforting people version of the Thoiry zoo near Paris where you drive your car through the wildlife. Back where I live, monsieur Rise'nshine was even out, rendering the situation slightly more familiar. Except for the fact that he'd lost his cowboy hat over the course of the day. *strange haircut!* Oh and, of course, besides the fact it was not time to rise and shine. You see, he's normally the second to greet me in the morning - right after our concierge, monsieur Padprolème, who is usually busy cleaning a window, salting the steps or mowing the lawn. But this evening, monsieur Rise'nshine thought I'd find it funny if he were to pretend to be my dad. He gazed at his watch and said to me "that's the last time you come home so late, miss". I take it he was trying to be funny to impress the lady he was helping out. Then again, monsieur Rise'nshine is always that exuberant. He's got to be the only cleaning man who will ever blow me kisses every morning when the electric gate of the parking complex opens. Hmm, let me rethink that one.. Lolita, remember her? She would too. Our lively cleaning lady at work always smothers me with kisses following her daily curdling ,,Ooooooola, Euph'!". And yep, that takes place whether or not you're on the phone. I love her to bits, that one, and have learned to plan my more serious calls for anytime before 5pm.

Actually, now you've got me thinking, I love my cleaning friends. There is the young parking chap at work, who always accompanies me to the 3rd floor of the tower for an evening chat too. He is in and outdoors in all weathers, poor guy, yet seems happy to have a job. Cool, eh? I remember giving him a box of chocolates for Christmas and he looked at it as if he had struck gold. And I think that is precicely what I love about my cleaning friends. They are uncomplicated and yet so real - you can learn so much from them.