My son soaked a pair of shorts to wash on March 15 2020, the day we requested our maid to stop coming (with full pay). I just realised it is still there. After a week I was afraid it would be alive. Now I am afraid it may actually be the source of the pandemic.
I admit Im afraid to enter the bathroom without protective gear. I do not want to touch the thing. I also do not think anyone else can be paid enough to touch the thing. My options are 1. sealing the bathroom door and pretending it doesnt exist. 2. Setting the bucket on fird
How did it come to this, you ask? This is the outcome of stubbornly trying to teach teenagers to take accountability for their chores. It began as a stand off. It has now gone to the deep dark area that requires a SWAT team and an evacuation task force sent by NATO
I also freely admit I am plagued with the kind of self doubt that drives mothers to hide bottles of wine in the rice bin. What kind of mother am I. Could I not have done it myself two months ago. What will I tell his wife when she threatens to divorce him. i am a failed feminist.
None of this, you will notice is actually addressing the issue of the shorts in the water. The shorts remain in the water. The water remains in the bucket. The bucket remains in the washroom. The washroom remains in the house. We remain in the house.
Maybe I can market the house as a weapon of mass destruction. Maybe we can aim it at china and even Stevens. Maybe this is what will take out Kim Jong Un. Oh sorry.. it’s the fumes.
The darkness drops again; but now I know
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
That twenty centuries of stony sleep
Were vexed to nightmare by a rocking cradle,
And what rough beast, its hour come round at last,
Slouches towards Bethlehem to be born?
Deep into that darkness peering, long I stood there wondering, fearing,
…
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—
…
But the silence was unbroken, and the stillness gave no token,
And the only word there spoken was the whispered word, “Lenore?”
This I whispered, and an echo murmured back the word, “Lenore!”—
About, about, in reel and rout
The death-fires danced at night;
The water, like a witch's oils,
Burnt green, and blue, and white.
And some in dreams assuréd were
Of the Spirit that plagued us so;
Nine fathom deep he had followed us
From the land of mist and snow
The death-fires danced at night;
The water, like a witch's oils,
Burnt green, and blue, and white.
And some in dreams assuréd were
Of the Spirit that plagued us so;
Nine fathom deep he had followed us
From the land of mist and snow
I may need the number of an exorcist. Pls DM if this is something you routinely have on speed dial.
