It's not me, it's you

Obviously a high chair is a necessity for babies, at least for awhile. In the beginning, I loved mine and I still think it's really cute, however that is where my affection ends. I used to think that I just didn't know how to clean it right, now I realize it's not me, it's the high chair. It does not matter what kind of detailed cleaning I do, when you look closely it looks repulsive. I have scrubbed so hard that the finish is off in some places. It still does not matter, in all of it's crevices, weird stuff lurks. I don't have the time to clean this thing with Q-tips or toothpicks and call me crazy, but I just don't think a high chair should require that kind of cleaning. In the midst of all my scrubbing, something strange always happens. I have a friend, who I'll call "C", who is compulssivly clean. That's not a bad thing, but I always feel like he is a level of clean and organized that I can never achieve! Not that C has ever said anything to me, it's just something I think about in my own head. Anyway, back to the high chair. Every time I am cleaning this wretched chair I feel like C would just shake his head in disgust at me....or that someday he will have children and I will randomly stop by his home and his high chair will be so clean it will be gleaming from across the room! At this point I realize I am done cleaning and make myself put down the sponge and simply walk away. This is just something that bugs me. I've considered asking my husband to pressure wash it....I really just don't care what it looks like anymore.