You probably have a story or two like mine growing up. Picture this. It is a Saturday. A day that any kid would believe should be spent sleeping in, homework free, and yours to fill as you saw fit. In my childhood, that was not the case. Rather, we were told to grab your sister, head to the apartment building, and scrub the stairs. No, there wasn't a machine, a mop, or even a Swifter. What we had was a bucket filled with warm water and liquid soap. Our tool? Our elbow grease and a rag.