Recently my effervescent Mother came to stay at Rose Towers.
In preparation I:
Booked in the cleaner for an extra 2 hours that week
Scrubbed all of the windows in the flat
Got out the fancy guest bed linen and towels and even though it was clean I washed it again in enough Fairy and Lenor or sink a battleship
Bought fresh flowers for all rooms
Begged Mr Rose to iron his stack of chinos and pink shirts (I don't do his ironing - feminism, innit.)
Plumped cushions
Cleaned out the fridge
Cleaned out the larder
I even scrubbed the extractor hood in the kitchen!!! I KNOW!!!!
Polished glass coffee table
Dusted wooden blinds
Weeded the window boxes
Arranged a selection of my extensive cosmetic collection for her use
Etc etc etc.
She arrived quite late in the evening and after a cup of black tea (the booming milk had gone off!!!!) she retired to bed.
The next morning was bright and sunny but when she emerged from the spare room wide eyed and white faced I knew something had gone terribly wrong. Perhaps a crack whore had tried to break into the flat in the night and she'd had to fend her off? Perhaps a dead horse's head was found under the pillow? Perhaps a plague of locusts had arrived in the spare room? I gingerly enquired as to whether everything had been sufficient in the guest quarters.
She took a deep breath and said in a strained whisper "I can't believe a daughter of mine does not have a mattress protector on her spare bed!"
So, dear reader, I quickly fired up the Marks and Spencer App and ordered 2 mattress protectors in the hope that she will return to Rose Towers and will be more comfortable next time.
So useful if one goes to bed with a full bladder. |
Rose x
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