Do You Do Windows?

Today I washed my beautiful french lace curtains and the windows in the kitchen, dining room, living room, front hall and back door. I also washed the windows in the family room. My mother, a.k.a. Grandma K, will be very proud. After I lived in this house for about a year my mother said, "Have you washed your windows yet?" (Something only a mother would ask, right?) I said, "No, God does my windows." She said, "What the heck are you talking about?" (Like only a mother can say, right?) I answered sarcastically, "It's a little something He calls rain." (Like only a daughter can say, right?) She said, "Don't you get smart with me." I said, "Okay." Well, that was 21 + years ago. I wash my windows every spring and every fall now. All the women in the neighborhood think I'm a little nuts, except one, because she also has an Italian mother who can make gravy, wash the windows, change the sheets and scrub the tub with one hand tied behind her back and a patch over her eye. When I was done, I looked back at my work, pleased and satisfied . . . until my son said, "What a waste of time huh? It doesn't look any different." I said, "Don't you get smart with me." He said, "I won't. I'll stay dumb." I said, "I'm calling Grandma K." He said, "Ooh, I'm scared. Wait, you're not really going to call her, are you?" Heehee. . .