Monday Monday
There is a sort of tradition that people return to work on a Monday.
Who am I to break and age old tradition?
So far I have nearly filled the recycle bin. Any old rubbish can go in that. and it’s up to them to sort it out. It will probably all end up in landfill anyway.
I baked a cake. Well, it’s more a plateful of chocolate fudgey stuff. Herself is hollering for a slice but I’m letting it cool first. Then of course I have to test it. And maybe test it again just to be sure? Maybe then she can have a slice. If she’s good.
I have also shampooed two carpets. This is none of your Argos type floor brushes: oh no, it’s more your industrial type of cleaning. Shampoo and steaming hot water sprayed out through a nozzle and then sucked up with a suction that could take the knickers off a nun.
Maybe I shouldn’t have said that last bit? Religious discrimination? Sexist? Misogynistic?
Fuck it, who cares? It can stay. No one reads this anyway.
I’m only a lowly housewife..
How do you know that nuns wear knickers?
There is story there when you need a post topic.
Father O’Malley told me, of course.
Scottish nuns do not wear knickers – you would see them on a windy day (and it’s often quite windy there)!
Quite true.
You never see them out on the washing line.
But then you never see the Father’s pants either.
Well, I read this–faithfully. I don’t always comment ‘cuz my brain occasionally stops worki…