A Clean Sweep

Every day after the kids have left the house I swoop around the house like a whirling dervish, desperately gathering random odds and sods and chucking it all roughly back where it looks like it may have originated from.

This is not always successful, as my overflowing arms often call for either abs like The Rock or at the very least an empty laundry basket to throw it all in. Incidentally, I have started using the laundry basket technique a fair bit – these baskets then sit, hopelessly awaiting their contents to be reclaimed. My record has been five baskets (in desperation, and feeling so overwhelmed, rather than sort through the contents I actually just brought more baskets – bad parenting I know). Why oh why can I not just throw out all these crappy bits and pieces, which are surely largely party bag contents, broken toys and odd socks? Why can’t I be hardcore, minimalist, or at the very least not feel as though I may one day end up featuring on a Hoarders documentary.

Anyway, during my morning rounds, one of my stops is the toilet – you know the drill – a super quick cast of the eye to ensure basic hygiene standards have been met. This morning I was greeted with a wonderful sight. One of my children had taken the time to fold the end of the toilet roll paper into a beautiful little peak; it was as if I was looking at the roll of a five star hotel. Then I glanced down and realized that the same little darling had exhausted herself with her creativity, and clearly had no energy left to actually flush the loo. Whaaaat?? Thankfully at that moment I heard the sound of a grunty engine, a heavy door slam – a swoosh as something hit the front door. Yes! There it was. The slutty red boots I’d ordered had arrived just in time to lift my mood. Hurrah for the deliveryman!