Today, I ventured into the very jaws of death. I strode boldly up to the gates of Hell, pressed the button on Satan’s intercom and yelled ‘Suck it up, cupcake’ – and I survived to tell the tale.
What was this mighty feat, I hear you ask? Well, my regular readers may already have an inkling as to what’s coming next (my irregular readers are probably too busy buying prunes and hi-fibre biscuits to give a shit*).
Yes – I tidied Stig’s bedroom.
I’ll give you a moment to digest the enormity of this before I continue…
…. And away we go.
Before I start, allow me to stress that I don’t normally tidy The Dump. It’s not my job, it’s not my mess, and it’s not my idea of a fun way to spend the day. But today some minor furniture rearrangement was necessary and before that could happen, someone had to take the shovel and jet-wash in there.
It never fails to amaze me what that child will willingly live with. I mean, we’ve all seen the classic ‘coffee-cup-full-of-mould-in-teenager’s-bedroom’ bit in the sitcoms. Coffee cup? Hah! I laugh at your coffee cup. I scorn your coffee cup. I see your coffee cup – and raise you an entire lunchbox full of mould. From the trip to Alton Towers she took with the school. In June 2009. Thank God it was transparent, meaning I didn’t get as far as removing the lid, or I might have been writing this blog from the ICU.
Add that to the seventeen half-finished bottles of various brightly coloured carbonated beverages, the randomly scattered biscuits, and to the fact that apparently these days when one sharpens a pencil the approved location for depositing the shavings is in one’s bed – and what’ve you got?
I’m thinking of getting a photo shoot done for my website of me in my new outfit. Whaddaya think?
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*See what I did there? Twice?