Blog Archives
Cat walk
I see where this is going and I am powerless to stop it, my jumbled corpse and broken bones while being lovingly purred at.
Pandemic didn’t cause a washing shortage that’s for sure. I’ve lost the will to live pairing socks and everyone’s got each others and is having fun negotiating them back. Don’t say I don’t make it fun.
Explosion.
Explosive start to Monday with a vacuum rammed washing basket. You can imagine my sheer joy at working through that. Isn’t this fun? Bet Snow White held those animals at gunpoint to get them to tidy up her bloody cottage. 
Thoughts while holding a washing basket.
1. Where’s my peg basket?
2. Who put tissues in their pocket?
3. That tree looks beautiful.
4. I’m tired.
5. Are star shorts appropriate?
Washing basket joy.
Look, I can’t do the washing because Gruff has left his toy dog on top and he looks so comfy.
Better get the kettle on then.
Beast of burden.
Not you Arnie, my washing basket.
I’ve closed the bathroom door so it can’t get out and I can’t see it either.
Weekend’s all right for washing.
Oh god, tonnes of it too.
All right! I can’t carry you as well you know…
Hrmph, all right for some, wake up! This washing needs sorting at some point.
Washing and ironing.
I wish I could hide from it.
Some days it feels like a tsunami out to get me. Shove it all in the draws before it swallows the kids….
