Cleanliness is next to... ah, who am I kidding?

My highchair's removable top says, "Dishwasher Safe Tray" but what it should say is, "Only when you have a starving, screaming baby doing the plank to avoid being strapped into his highchair will you remember that you never cleaned the oatmeal-booger-drool encrusted layer that formed on this tray after breakfast, so just snap this sucker off and presto! There's a mostly clean tray underneath!" But kudos to Fisher-Price for advertising it as if I actually put the tray into my dishwasher to clean it, rather than just rubbing it with a wipe every few days. It makes other people think I clean things.

I mean, I do clean things. Or at least I make an attempt. Usually I start something, like wiping down the counters, and three to eight seconds in I hear, "Blah blah blah blah, YOU'RE NOT LISTENING TO ME! Blah blah blah blah" and then I have to go do something even worse than cleaning -- playing with a 3-year-old.

"But little kids love helping their moms clean!" you say. You must not have kids. Because if you did you would know that while kids do love helping their moms clean, their moms do not love having children. I meant their moms do not love having children around while they clean. And also the other thing you thought I meant.

It is so much easier to (insert any activity here) when you distract your little walking disaster with something shiny rather than trying to get her to participate. Not that I didn't try letting Nina help me clean. The Books say things like, "pitching in can be a great way for your little helper to feel like she is part of the family" and "if you don't let your sweet, innocent child help around the house, he will turn into a heartless, selfish, antisocial failure."

I was pumped! My house would be spotless and my kid would end up a well-adjusted failure instead of just a selfish one! But what The Books don't say is you better hire a construction crew to put your house back together after Teeny Tornado starts "helping."

Here is what you can expect when you ask your child for help:

Say: Be mommy's big helper and throw this diaper in the trash!
Expect: To clean poop off your walls.

Say: Let's all clean up after dinner!
Expect: To find a trail of smashed food leading from the dining room table to to the kitchen, the kitchen to the bathroom, the bathroom to your bedroom, and if you have an especially helpful child, from your bedroom onto every nice pair of pants you own.

Say: You can help sort the laundry!
Expect: To fold laundry for the rest of the day and still end up with a pile of unfolded laundry.

Say: Why don't you use your cute toy broom to help me sweep?
Expect: To be hit in the eye with a cute toy broom.

Say: Use this harmless wet paper towel to clean whatever you want while I use the real cleaner to do something useful.
Expect: To stop cleaning every three to eight seconds to pretend-spray the wet paper towel with 409.

Say: You can watch TV while I clean.
Expect: To spend several hours watching Busytown Mysteries and wondering why all of the adults are so stupid and all of the children drive cars shaped like food.

So go ahead and invite your little one to help out. At least it's more fun laughing at their attempts at "helping" than playing hide-and-seek for the umpteenth time.