Well, now you’ve done it. You’re throwing a dinner party in one hour. The soufflé is in the oven and well on its way to greatness, well-chosen wines are chilling or breathing according to their needs, and oh-so-tasteful music is cued up on the stereo. And your house is a frigging mess.
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Here’s how to deal.
59 minutes left: Wrestle six-month stack of newspapers off the fifth dining room chair and into the mudroom.
57 minutes: Remove vase of desiccated roses, which were so lovely when you received them last Valentine’s Day, from the dining room table.
56 minutes: Hey, you left a trail of dried petals when you walked those out to the back porch. Sweep it up.
55 minutes: Throw a sheet over rolltop desk in hall—the one that can’t be closed because it’s full of junk mail—and drape attractively with white Christmas lights.
52 minutes: Put up a poster over the bloodstain on the wall. We won’t even ask.
50 minutes: Vacuum all cobwebs from ceiling fixtures and corners.
42 minutes: Realize you won’t have time to clean the bedrooms. Close all bedroom doors.
40 minutes: Since you can’t throw guests’ coats on your guest room bed, assign an easy chair in the living room to hold them. Put a throw pillow over that special pet memory on the arm of the chair.
38 minutes: Your houseplants should have been watered, like, six weeks ago, so dousing them now won’t help. Move them to the plant hospice, formerly known as the basement.
34 minutes: Use a credit card to scrape up hardened candle wax from the tabletop. Curse yourself for not using this same card to hire a cleaning service earlier in the week.
32 minutes: Dig good tablecloth and napkins out of the closet. Note intricate wrinkle patterns: Like snowflakes, no two are alike.
31 minutes: Plug in the iron.
30 minutes: Turn your attention to the bathroom. Start with what feels manageable—for example, pulling the shower curtain shut.
28 minutes: Attack sink and toilet. No, not with a blunt object—with spray cleaner and sponge.
25 minutes: Clean off the mirror, then rig the medicine cabinet so any prying guest will be exposed by the sound of bottles clattering into the sink.
22 minutes: Take your still-slightly-damp bath towel off the rack and replace with something on which decent people can dry their hands.
20 minutes: Get busy sweeping floors, for the love of godliness!
14 minutes: Faced with the enormity of the task of sweeping, adjust your floor-cleanliness standards downward. Dim lights in rooms you won’t have time to sweep.
11 minutes: Smell smoke coming from the direction of the iron.
10 minutes: Put out fire.
8 minutes: Silence smoke alarms. Change out of smoke-infested clothes. Open back door to air out entire first floor of house. Splash water on face.
5 minutes: Iron the tablecloth and napkins.
2 minutes: Toss mud-caked welcome mat over side of front stoop into bushes.
1 minute: Put the tablecloth on the table, shut the back door, and tell yourself that the eclectic look is big this year in wine glasses. Was that the doorbell?
