Your House Is Clean… Until Someone Rings the Doorbell

Then Panic sets in

By Sarah Allen
Real estate coordinator, homeowner, and human navigating life’s plot twists.

There’s clean, and then there’s company clean.

Company clean is when you sprint around the house like you’re on a game show. Laundry baskets get shoved into closets, dishes are stacked (still dirty) in the dishwasher, and a candle is lit as if it has the power to erase last night’s garlic shrimp. Even the dog suddenly looks like he sheds twice as much—like he knows people are coming.

The thing is, we all live in everyday clean. Shoes by the door, mail in a pile, a bit of clutter you’ve stopped noticing. Perfectly fine—until the doorbell rings. Suddenly, it’s like your house is on trial and you’re the panicked defence lawyer presenting Exhibit A: See, we are civilized humans who definitely fold laundry right away.

The Five-Minute Sprint

Like I am right now—if you’ve ever staged your home for sale, you already know the move: hide the clutter, wipe the counters, and boom—suddenly the place feels twice as big. Buyers notice it because “company clean” gives them a version of the home they can picture themselves in, even if nobody actually lives that way day-to-day.

Everyday Clean: The Honest Version

Here’s the truth: most of us live in the “almost tidy” zone. Counters aren’t spotless, the dishwasher is half-loaded, and yes, there’s probably dog hair. And you know what? That’s fine. People don’t expect perfection—they expect real people live here. The trick isn’t to make your home perfect every day, it’s to know when to shove the pile into the junk drawer and move on.

Stop Saving the Good Towels

Let’s be honest: half the reason we panic-clean for company is because we want them to see our “good side.” The nice towels, the throw pillows that never get sat on, the one room everyone avoids except when guests arrive. But here’s a radical thought: what if we used the good towels for ourselves? A house doesn’t have to be company-ready to feel good—it just has to work for the people who actually live there.

Real Talk

My house is a lot like my curly hair—it looks amazing on the day I don’t have to go anywhere. The day it actually matters? Absolute chaos.

So if you ever stop by unannounced, you’ll probably meet the real version: laundry piles, streaky mirrors, and a dog that sheds like it’s his full-time job. That doesn’t make a home less valuable—it makes it real. And honestly, real is what people connect with most.