Dear John Letter

Dear John

I know you thought I was going to clean you today, but, well, I have not and don't intend to.

Perhaps you are wondering who took my affections and stopped me from plunging my brush into your not so white depths.

Was it Mr Dyson, that sucker that lives in the cupboard in the office? Was it his handle I caressed instead of the handle of the dunny brush that lives by your side? Did I push him around the house, instead of the brush down toward your s bend, while you languished alone in the bathroom, waiting for someone to clean you? Instead of sitting on you.

Nope, not him.

Was it the shaggy mop head that was used? Or the dust cloth? How about that bottle of spray that promises to make my kitchen look like new (despite being about twenty five years old)? Was it the clogged filter on the dishwasher that captured my heart? The inside of the oven? The grubby front of the kitchen cupboards?

Nope.

Okay, I did put two loads of clothes in the washing machine but, at no stage, did I feel compelled to clean the washing powder off the floor. Nor did I take it upon myself to sort the washing, clean the laundry tub, wipe the dust off the bench or even fold up the ironing board. So, you were not the only one to be neglected today.

And I did make my bed so beautifully, the Marcella bedspread all smooth and white. But that was only so I could lay upon it and read a magazine before enjoying a little nap. Besides, bed making does not qualify as housework.

However, I did sit on the back step and make use of a Ped Egg on my newly exposed heels and tipped the soft white excess skin into the garden. But, that was because today I wore clogs and my heels were on show and what a cracked show it was too.

Why did I get to wear clogs? You see, today was warm. It was as warm as a summer day. The wind was warm, the sky a beautiful hazy blue and broken by scattered grey clouds.

So, why would I want to clean you Dear John? Why would I want to pick the hair out of the shower plug hole, sweep the floor, clear the bench top and wipe the mirror? Why, why and why would I want to do any housework at all?

For outside was so lovely and I just wanted to be there and embrace the loveliness for tomorrow it may rain and what good is that to me I ask you.

Don't worry, even I have my standards and I promise you that tomorrow you and your static bathroom buddies will shine like a new penny.

Until then - no visitors allowed to have a pee.

Ciao
LC