Are all men and women as different as Humberto and Socorro? Their concept of what is "clean" is on opposite ends of the spectrum. Its humorous because Socorro spends the better part of her day teaching, cooking, picking up and organizing after a crowd of six muchachitos and Humberto can go through the entire day without so much as picking up his crumpled up, crusty socks after a long day of mowing lawns and trimming shrubs.
So this is the struggle they have.
He is the Kitchen Sponge Nazi, bleaching those little yellow and green things until they are half dead. He sprays Lysol on all the door knobs. The sheets, too. If there is leftover crud on the blender, he looks at poor little Socorro like she's a cretin. Or worse, a huevóna. Just last week, he lugged the pressure washer into the bathroom to blast their white-tiled shower because he couldn't take the grime one second longer. Its obvious he is more concerned with disinfecting and germs than she. Now, I'm confident that Socorro enjoys disinfecting as much as the next person, but come on, she's not gonna miss the forest for the trees.
Meanwhile, everything else that needs to be cleaned is apparently Socorro's domain. If, after all that she has to do, she still has it in her--then she'll get to the doorknobs...or the kitchen sponges...or the microwave...and the bleaching of everything that doesn't breathe.
Fact of the matter is, poor old Socorro would love to have all that stuff clean, but she just can't seem to get to it.
Remember the six little muchachitos?
They kinda fill up a person's day. So when Humberto does bring it up, ugh--have you smelled the sponges? Disgusting! Me da asco, Socorro! He unwittingly makes her feel like a second class housewife. And no self-respecting Mexican wife would ever be a second-class housewife.
But listen, a mujer can only do so much in a day.
And so, Socorro must choose the hill that she will die on. And that hill doesn't include a spotless blender. Or the funk that collects in the bottom of the toothbrush holder. So she lets him get all loco en el coco over that stuff. But Socorro can't help but laugh. She routinely trips over his funky towels, dirty chonies, work boots, receipts from 1993, bottles of shaving cream and mouthwash (not the tasty green one, but the brown one that makes you feel like a wino chillin' in an alley after you use it)...but as long as the sponges are cool, Humberto's world can continue rotating peacefully.
We all have our priorities. And at the end of the day, Socorro and Humberto still love each other. And that's all Socorro cares about.