The throbbing in my head and aching body needed relief. If I don’t look at the bombsite that is my home I won’t toss and turn wondering when I will get around to some housework.
Three days in a row of long hours and night meetings were taking their toll and tonight’s meeting was particularly tedious.
I flicked on the light looking forward to a hot drink and bed. But wait.
What is the pile of clean ironing on the table? They are the same clothes spilling out of the dirty laundry basket this morning.
Where are the three days of dirty dishes piled in the sink?
Why does the house look bigger? Because the floor is clean, you idiot.
I looked around some more. There was no dust on the furniture, the bathroom was clean, and my bed was freshly made with clean linen.
Has there been a cleaning angel in my house? Yes, there has, but I call her Mum.
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