Subversive Window Washer

September 29, 1967
Column by Erma Bombeck

A wonderful thing happened in our neighborhood last week.
Wanda the window washer moved.
Wanda wasn’t a bad sort. It’s just when you get a woman of her kind who washes windows every 10 days the neighborhood gets a bad name.
I remember the day she moved in. We were all poking our heads through the cracks on our doors (our windows distort bodies), when right off we saw her unpack this big stepladder.
“Don’t panic!” I told the group. “It’s probably a garage prop. Undoubtedly got it for a wedding present and doesn’t know what it’s for.”
Within minutes, she was shinnying up the rungs with a bucket in her hand and polishing the panes until we were nearly struck blind by the glare.
After that performance, homemade FOR SALE signs sprang up like crabgrass. We tried to reason with some of the homeowners, but they stood firm.
“We’re selling before property values decrease,” they insisted.
“Sure, now it’s only a window washer, but tomorrow it’ll be a grass trimmer, a porch scrubber, a garbage can cleaner or even some nut who waxes the driveway.”
Those of us who stood firm got it from all directions, especially our husbands.
“Hey,” said my husband one evening, “is that woman across the street washing her windows again?”
“What windows?” I said, trying to divert his attention.
“You told me our windows weren’t washable, that you had to send them out to be cleaned.”
“Our windows aren’t that dirty or I’d wash them.”
“Aren’t that dirty?” he shouted. “We’re the only house in the block growing mushrooms for houseplants!”
“Can’t you see what Wanda the window washer really is?” I asked. “She’s a subversive. She was sent to this good upper-middle-class neighborhood of slobs to cause unrest, discontent and hostility. In time, she’ll cause us to fight with our husbands, argue with our neighbors. The next thing you know, we’ll divide politically and the country will be taken over by Communists.”
The new neighbor moved in yesterday.
“How do you feel about washing windows?” we asked cautiously.
“The same way I feel about biting fingernails,” she said. “It’s a filthy habit. Besides, it’s un-American.”
Now, there’s the kind of woman you’d like your son to marry.