These People Cleaned My House So Good I Almost Felt Bad for the Dirt Bro. Three teenage daughters. That's not a family, that's a hostage situation with eyelash extensions. My house looked like Hot Topic and Bath & Body Works had a baby and then immediately regretted it. My wife's in nursing school, I work all day, and the only thing getting exercised around here is the smoke alarm when I try to cook. We were one spilled foundation bottle away from being condemned. One night I'm scrolling Angie's List at 1 a.m. like a degenerate, find A&A Sparkle, shoot my shot. Lazara hits me back so fast I thought I got catfished by speed itself. We set up a quote. Next day the whole Cuban mafia shows up: Lazara, her husband, daughter, son-in-law, probably an uncle in the car keeping the engine warm. English? Secondary. Vibes? Primary. We're pointing at cabinets, Googling words, laughing like we've known each other since diapers. Ten minutes in I'm ready to let them adopt me. Fast-forward to yesterday. I walk in after work... bro. I dead-a** thought we got broken into by Mr. Clean's SWAT team. The stove looks like it's never met a spill. The fridge? I opened it and heard angels. They cleaned the garbage cans. The garbage cans, dude. I didn't know those could shine; I thought they just accepted their fate. Toilet paper folded into little points like we're a Marriott now. My wife came home, did that slow-motion movie walk, turned to me and said, "We're never firing these people. Ever." I nodded like a man who just found religion. I had one tiny little doubt beforehand, like "What if they steal my identity?" Nah, they just stole my excuses. Lazara and her crew rolled in like the A-Team of hygiene and left my house looking like it's got a realtor coming tomorrow. Book them. Tip them heavy. Tell them the guy with the teenage tornadoes sent you. My floors have never been happier, and honestly, neither have I. Five stars, zero notes, Cuba's clearly not sending their best--they kept them and loaned us the legends. read more

See all