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How I Fell In Love With My Playtex Living Gloves

Updated on October 26, 2009


For those of you who have a proclivity for rubber against your naughty bits, move along, this is not a blog post for you. I’m sorry to say that there will be no discussion of the ways you can “get off” while wearing a pair of rubber gloves. No, this is a typical Scott story of how he discovered that the commercials sometimes are right and how I fell in love with my Playtex Living Gloves – Don’t Get Me Started!

I am sorry to say that I am not the sort of fussy overly clean stereotypical gay you’ve seen in television and movies. (I know, you’re disappointed but there, I’ve said it). That said I’m not someone who lives in squalor either. I like things clean it’s just that when it’s me who is doing the cleaning it’s like everything else in my life, I like a good deadline. A friend coming to stay is the perfect deadline I need but due to the fact I live in Vegas where when friends come to visit they usually stay somewhere on the Strip and don’t often stay with us I can’t use that as the only time I clean as I would live in a way too dirty environment. So while a deadline like someone coming to visit sometimes works, there are other times when I simply can’t take it anymore and I run around the house like the old “white tornado” from the television commercials. Like some sort of cleaning and sanitizing Tasmanian devil, no one and no surface is safe. This normally goes on for about two to three hours until I find myself falling over with exhaustion and cleaning chemical fumes inhalation falling into a heap on the sofa for the rest of the day.

The thing about me is that I never really learned how to clean. I know some of you will find this an odd comment, after all you’re saying, all you do is you spray some cleaner on something and wipe it with a sponge and it gets clean, right? Yeah, that’s the simple stuff but what I mean is that I have no idea (even though I’ll soon be 45 years old) how to use a mop. I don’t care if it’s the old fashioned kind with the Raggedy Ann hair bottom or the new ones where you can squeegee the water out with a pull back on the lever. The whole process of mopping remains a mystery to me. Most of the time I just feel as though I’m pushing dirty water around the floor and no matter if I’m on my knees scrubbing or using a mop the results are always less than I desire or expect.  And if you’re mopping and then putting the mop in the bucket to rinse it, after awhile isn’t it just being rinsed in dirty water so then you’ve just got a mop of dirty water that you’re pushing around the floor? Obviously I’m missing a big piece to this puzzle.

When it comes to cleaning, I believe that no matter what the cost to the environment or my own personal health, if the product says it will eat through the dirt (even at the cost of your lung) I’m in. That’s right, I stand in front of the cleaner aisle in the store and look for whatever I can find with the most skull and cross bones on it and that’s what I buy. When I finally use the products I tend to do everything you’re NOT supposed to do. I use them in the small confined bathrooms with very limited ventilation and I mix as many of them as possible because I figure that if one set of chemicals won’t do the job than the other three I mixed in will help the process out. I don’t mind scrubbing but when there are bubbles that will actually scrub for you that come out of the nozzle of the can, why would you bother, right? And up until recently, I did this all with naked hands and wondered when I was finished why my hands felt as though they were on fire and as if the skin was about to peel off.

That is until I found the little yellow hands helper that you housewives have known about for years, the Playtex Living Glove! Sure I had seen the commercials growing up but I figured that a real man didn’t need to wear such a thing unless he was mixing toxic chemicals (oh shit, that IS me, see paragraph above) I mean I thought it was for more of a commercial chemical environment. But on a recent Friday night all that changed.

The cleaning my house was about to get was premeditated. I had stopped at the store to buy more supplies (I need to say at this point I have more cleaning supplies in my home than the law allows or that I should have considering I’m not cleaning every moment of every day. This also means that I have about two of everything because I forget what I have under the sink and figure I do need an additional, Kaboom, Fantastik or Scrub Free and buy it when I’m about to go on a cleaning spree because I can’t really remember what I have and don’t have so there’s almost as many cleaning products under the sink as unused hair care products which I lovingly call my, “product graveyard.”) And near these cleaning products in the store, I ran across the Playtex living gloves. I thought back to my last cleaning extravaganza when I had almost passed out after being on my knees and hunched over the tub scrubbing with a mixture of Clorox and six other products in the bathtub until the chemicals had eaten away at my hands, t-shirt and my sinuses were on fire. I tossed the gloves into my cleaning supply filled basket and went to the checkout.

When I began my cleaning regime I almost forgot about the gloves but after a thorough cleaning of the mirrors in the bathroom I ran across them and put them on. Hmmmm, they felt a little strange. I could easily put my fingers together but they felt all how shall I put this? Rubbery I guess? I went about the cleaning and all the while I would get glimpses of myself in a mirror with my tousled hair, t-shirt and bright yellow gloves, I looked like I could invent something! As I scrubbed I will say that my hands began to sweat a bit in the gloves but nothing would deter me now. I could actually scrub away without that burning sensation of the chemicals eating through my flesh and I was loving every minute of it. As I sprayed the Scrubbing Bubbles I thought about how wonderful the sound was and wondered why no one had put this on a Sharper Image product that gave you the option of soothing sounds to fall asleep to like rain, ocean or chemical bubbles popping to do your cleaning for you.

I have to admit that the frenzy reached its standard out of control pace but when I was done and took the gloves off with a pop, I discovered that my hands which had long suffered at the hands of my own cleaning ignorance were a bit damp from the sweat but unscathed from chemicals. What a wonderful world we live in I began to think. I don’t know who Mr. (or Mrs.) Playtex is and I have to admit I thought they had only really been responsible for the 18 hour bra, but my hat and soft and supple hands are off to you, whoever you are and a heartfelt thank you as well. I still don’t think I’m very good at the cleaning but at least now I won’t have to sacrifice my hands for a house that’s clean (wow, I’d write a great commercial).  And that’s how I fell in love with my Playtex Living Gloves – Don’t Get Me Started!

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