You don’t have one? Yes, you do. You just don’t want anyone to know.

Some say broom closets “don’t get no respect,” that they lack the cachet of a pantry where families keep the boxes and jars and cans … and hidden candy. This is true.

Your kids come home from away, from colleges and big city apartments, looking for snacks.

“Wow! Mom and Dad, what a great pantry.” They point to IT.

“What’s in there?”

“Nothing.” Get past it quickly.

Remember that guest at your house last year, who, while looking for the bathroom, accidentally opened the other door?

You were probably embarrassed when she took you aside and whispered, “ I couldn’t find the bathroom, but … what is that gray door in the kitchen?”

Yes. It’s the broom closet. A catacomb of clutter, a space of disgrace and shame.

I remember my childhood friend, Bobby G., who misbehaved in the worst way, you know, cursing at the dinner table, spitting out okra, or punching his baby sister in the back of the head.

Bobby’s mother would then make him go stand in the broom closet for hours, with the old brooms, dust pans and rags that smelled of Old English polish. Whew!

I should add here, that Bobby grew up to be a rich and famous film director, and slept with the most beautiful women in Hollywood. But he never got rid of that tic in his left eye from those days in the broom closet.

I confess. She who lives with me, was a teacher who spent eight hours away, and six more at her desk, who never liked housework, ignored that door. Then COVID-19 fell on our world. We lost our cleaning lady, and I took her place.

Searching for tools, I came upon my personal broom closet, a shadowy crime scene with the odor of a morgue and dust balls in the corners.

Oh, no! I knew I couldn’t get my big hulking vacuum cleaner in there to suck it up.

It was then that I bought a sleek new Dyson “cordless” vacuum cleaner, a slim instrument of joy with lots of attachments. But it needed a clean connected home.

Picture my excitement when I discovered that the old dark broom house had an electrical outlet for Mr. Dyson and the new light. I will repaint it, of course, as soon as we find a painter.

There have been some tense moments.

She, who guards her privacy, has problems with my bringing in folks to view my work. What’s the problem? The mailman, the lawn man, FedEx and UPS people — they’re all fully vaccinated. Aren’t they?

To please her, I took down the sign welcoming passersby to drop in to see the new broom room, if they can prove they’ve had their shots.
Armed with my new Dyson cordless vacuum, I’m considering picking up some extra cash by enhancing the broom closets of others who didn’t know they had one.

I take all credit cards.

J.P. Devine is a Waterville writer.