The tradesman who has been expected every day for two months to patch up some bathroom sealant comes and does the job while you're still in your pyjamas (at lunchtime). It's the day you need to bare your bits to the gyno surgeon and you can't use the shower until tomorrow.
Sigh. Top and tail time, kiddies.
Postscript: problem solved! Zoe is home! With a working shower! And she wishes she had glittery soap for me, but we all decided a few weeks ago that glitter is the herpes of the craft world, so I'm glad she doesn't.
4 comments:
I had the sudden urge to scratch at the nether regions when you mentioned glitter soap.
Doorbitch says disly and the sound trips off the tongue, grand name for a cat.
oooh, yeah,
I had the urge to scratch at the nethers when you mentioned you couldn't use the shower!
glitter soap. That would be for exfoliating, right?
Yay for Zoe!!! And what the hell is it with your doorbitch? I told myself I'd ignore her, but she says trowsea!!!!
Have a lovely muddy time at Woofo.
oh, I have just read that absolutely exquisite piece of writing over at sarsparilla.
You are totally amazing.
I have tears in my eyes, for a dozen different reasons.
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