sponges suck

Ok, here it goes. This blog comes at the prompting of family members quite dear to me…my daughter Lindsay and my cousins Don and Steve. All of who think that the things I do in life should be shared. Quite frankly, I do not know why anyone would want hear about my ideas about kitchen pantry organization as an art form or making beds with a half dozen sheets or so. Doesn’t Martha Stewart cover all of this?! My guess is that I sometimes take it whatever it might be, a step further. And it could be just about anything these days.

topic number one: sponges suck

First of all, I hate kitchen sponges. Yes I do. Now that I have confessed this, I will admit that I do have sponges in my home. But I have to ask, why are sponges treated so differently than other kitchen cleaning items? Dish towels are used once in an evening, dirty and wet, and are then immediately tossed into the hamper to be cleaned. (Or at least I hope so.) What I have noticed is that for most people, they let their sponges linger…they are kept wet in the sink or on the counter. Or, dare I say, under the counter where they become even more dangerous-wet and mildewed and then the smell. …disgusting. I have tried to get around wet sponges by squeezing them dry after each use but that doesn’t solve the bigger issue at hand.

Who would ever decorate their kitchen in industrial strength yellow, lime-a-way green or medicinal blue??? Have you ever thought about the horrible color selection we all have been forced to live with for years? What was Chore-Boy thinking?! They must have collaborated with all the other sponge manufacturers as I have walked down numerous aisles of grocery stores, Bed Bath and Beyond, Target and even kitchen specialty shops like Sur la Table. All are alike. What happened or should I say didn’t happen to sponge color in the 20^th and now 21^st century is an absolute travesty! Between you and me, sponge designers have failed at their task. It is a most unfortunate situation…as what other company would hire them with such a visual handicap? Am I the only one out there hoping to find teal blue, sage green, light caramel, dove gray or coco brown sponges? Or what about, dare I think stripes? My quest began.

I happened to stumble upon faux sea sponges in the beauty aid aisle at CVS Pharmacy. I stood there in awe. But could I figure out how to cut these puffy oval sponges into perfectly flat rectangular shapes? What a big disappointment. My suggestion is not to even go there with this thought.

Days and weeks went by with sponges on my mind, which sucked (no pun intended). Finally, to my absolute delight and my family’s dismay, I discovered beautiful white sponges at Whole Foods Market. Yes, I realize white can be a tough color to keep clean…but they are so worth it. I immediately bought the two small white sponges hidden halfway under the plastic wrap on the store shelf, hoping that more could be found. After driving to three additional Whole Food stores, I was able to gather several more. I discovered there was a larger size…although aesthetically too large, so I simply cut each of the large sponges into two smaller ones. I now keep a container of crisp white sponges in my kitchen. I throw dirty sponges into the dishwasher on a regular basis after use. And during desperate times when white sponges are not to be found…begrudgingly medicinal blue will do.

sponges really do suck

My response to my mother’s affliction has changed over years: denial, bargaining, anger, depression, and finally acceptance. Sound familiar? Comparing my view of my mother’s perfectionism to the stages of mourning may take it a little too far, but I must admit that the journey has not been without its ups and downs. Resistance if not down-right rebellion against some of her ways has led to conflict. I am not a perfectionist. I took a test. Apparently I simply “strive for excellence.” That being said, it does not mean that I may one day become one, or even become more like my mother. My purpose in this blog is to respond to my mother’s perfection hoping not only to enrich her suggestions but also that some of her ingenuity might rub off on me as well.

Although my posts are in response to hers, mine will be published slightly before, that way they fall below hers on this blog (a perfectionist wouldn’t have it any other way!). If in the event that this does not occur, please scroll down and read her post first. Please expect new topics before or on every Sunday, but we will continue to comment throughout the week.

Best,

Lindsay (a.k.a. Perri’s Daughter)

response number one: sponges really do SUCK

Now that I am away at school for most of the year, I find myself missing my mother’s ingenious peculiarities as well as the week or even month long quests to find the perfect product to fit a need. Of all such quests, the “search for the stylish sponge” is the one I miss the least. I detest sponges. Not only do I detest sponges, but on many occasions I refuse to use them.

Sponges and I have a long and sordid history. Up until the last couple years, I would rinse dishes without the use of a sponge before putting them in the dishwasher, choosing to touch the food on the plate rather than handle the slimy, smelly sponge. Once my mother discovered the white sponges, my disgust continued, the peaceful aesthetic of the sponge is temporarily compromised by that night’s chicken grease and red stains from my mother’s homemade pasta sauce. My war against sponges extended outside the kitchen last summer when an act of good will turned sour after I accidentally used the scouring side of a rogue brillo sponge on my mother’s black BMW. Thankfully, the car didn’t have to be repainted . . . entirely.

More than that, I hold a firm belief that sponges potentially pose a serious health hazard. If not disinfected correctly, sponges contain bad-news germs. Sponges are used on kitchen surfaces, sinks, and dirty cutting boards (my father’s pet-peeve) which have more germs than a household bathroom. Not only can sponges carry cold and flu viruses, they can spread more serious threats like salmonella. Food borne illnesses are the bane of my existence; my mission is their defeat.  This proved to be rather difficult in my dorm where the kitchen would frighten even the worst hygiene offender. Cleanliness in college can be challenging, and my health suffered. Without a dishwasher to put the sponges in, I resorted to zapping them in the microwave. I don’t know how effective this is as a disinfectant; maybe this was just my personal revenge on the little suckers. Regardless, that sponge was cooked.