This is a tribute to my mother-in-law, who has every right to tsk-tsk at my housekeeping, and yet, instead of tsking, pitches in.

She spent Sunday afternoon at our house, partly to fill some empty hours. Her husband, my husband's father, is in the hospital, which sometimes happens when you're 95 and still alive.

Mary Ann isn't the couch potato sort, even though we'd built a nice fire and laid out the newspaper. She's happier when she's busy, and happiest when she's cleaning. For most of our married life, I've been defensive about this, intent on never giving her an excuse to step in where I've fallen short.

This time, though, I would happily put aside my pride to fill some time, and so I showed her the stove top.

Now, in my piteous defense, the stove top was not encrusted with the gunk of months of unwiped cooking. But it was dirty, each burner with a halo of speckles that had burned into something immoveable. Really. I have tried on odd occasions, using baking soda for a gentle abrasive on the porcelain coating. I get most of it -- the worst of it -- but never every speckle, leading me to believe it was impossible.

Enter Mary Ann. With diligence, patience and all the time in the world, she began working at those spots. Even after I assured her they were there for good, she kept at them. And they began to disappear. She worked at them with the baking soda, then carefully nicked at them with a paring knife.

I've tried that before, only to end up scratching the coating. Somehow, perhaps because she was careful, the stovetop emerged unblemished and, more amazingly, as clean at the day we bought it years ago.

My shame was balanced by her joy in having triumphed over the impossible, but also in having done something worthwhile, helpful, tangible, and appreciated.

I also learned that I tend to give up too easily, to decide that I've spent enough time on this or that task, that I have better things to do with my time. And I do have more pressing things to do, given that spotlessness is not foremost in my list of Attributes That Make Me A Good Person.

But there are times I could try harder, give something a few more minutes' effort. More to the point, I could do a good job of wiping down the stovetop after each and every meal.

Yet I have a feeling that I will be giving Mary Ann something more to do over time. if not the stovetop, then a stubborn stain, or a bit of mending I keep putting off. She has the time, and the skills, and the generous nature that compels her to help when help is needed.

What's your relationship with a relative who's cleaner than you are? Have you found a happy medium?