A cleaner's mentality & other tales of preparing for guests

We have a guest coming to stay this weekend. Oh, that dreaded term. 'Guests'.
It's a word dripping with impersonality, isn't it? Whenever I went to a friend's house to play as a child, and got referred to as a 'guest', I immediately felt like an outsider; trapped in a catergorized playpen all on my own. Whereas other household members were allowed to roam freely around the 'family' catergory, easily exchanging in-jokes and basking in familarity, I, being the lone guest, was the awkward one, constantly asking for directions to the nearest toilet and attempting to make a good impression. Not a lot of fun.

But as I've grown older and (apparently) wiser, I've come to notice that being the receiver of a guest is a bit of a social minefield, too. Especially a guest you don't know very well, as is the case this weekend. Being a member of a host family means remembering things that you usually forget whilst at home; table manners, social etiquette, no walking around in pyjamas or drinking tea without a coaster, thank you very much. The ringleader (mum, of course) gets very stressed and snappy; only speaking between gaps in the hoovering, and usually only then in abbreviated terms. Her current favourite at the moment is "FHB!", meaning Family Hold Back-in other words, "Stop eating all the food which I bought for the guest!" It's a phrase she seems particularly proud of, because as a type of code she can use it whenever she likes; even in the very presence of the guest themselves.

Anyway, it goes without saying that preparations for the guest's arrival have already begun, a good day before her planned arrival. Most of today has been spent cleaning toilets, making beds, picking flowers, baking cakes, brushing floors, dusting windowsills....I could go on but the list's rather dull. Everyone, even Dad, has been roped in to help and generally 'make an effort'; the highly important thing to do when guests are imminent. And I for one am exhausted already!

But the interesting thing I've noticed is-we're not actually doing all this for the guests. We're doing it for ourselves. Let's face it- is someone who barely knows your house going to notice if the carpets aren't completely clean? Is it likely that they'll criticise you if you haven't toilet-ducked the loo in the past 24 hours, or spent ages dusting a photo-frame that they'll hardly even glance at?

The answer's an emphatic no, of course. They'll never know. They'll never even think about it.

But we will. We'll know. Those crumbs on the carpet will leap out at us, those unclean windows will mock us, and we won't even be able to sit on the toilet. And so, we must clean.

I've got to admit, it's a lovely feeling when it's all done. Not only does the risk of an imminent feeling of guilt disappear, a sense of smug pride arises within. Because we've been a good enough person to 'make the effort' for an outsider. Sorry, I mean guest.