Once we thought `if you can't beat it, join it'. So we lived in accumulating filth for about close to a month. We really persevered despite the dusty feet, rolling hairballs *cue western movie music with deserted cowboy town imagery*, ant trails, lizard droppings and grimy table tops. When a pair of house slippers made its appearance, we surrendered.
"At least a maid gets paid, you know..."
Growing up, I've never had a maid and Mama made sure we understood she wasn't one. I am not Mama and neither is Ah Tan her mom, so we figured it is not our place to be educating a person on tact, common sense and sensibility. Anyhow, we'd be more than a decade too late.
Gue ngak ngerti. Seriously. Mopping the floors for the third round one night for my `I've-lost-count-of-how-many-times'th turn, I was left with a tear-stained face and sore palms. Two hours of cleaning, during which my mind was preoccupied with finding words to make the acronym S.L.O.B. allowed me to fall asleep without murderous dreams and floors so clean your toes will wriggle and dance! Ahhh... there's always a bright side to everything. I am also pleased to report that S.L.O.B. can be personalised for specimens of both genders.
I can now fully comprehend how housewives and working mothers can break down in tears when their children refuse to help keep the house clean. It is not melodrama hystrionics or emotional blackmailing. You'll understand one day when you're living on your own under the same roof as a S.L.O.B. and you will thank your mother with all your grateful heart.
Redemption lies with a broom, a mop and a bucket of soapy water. Clean and redeem.
"Dear little cicak, I'm utterly sorry for dragging you for about 1.5 metres or so in the mop while I was cleaning the kitchen floor today. I was mopping under the influence of anger and frustration. I hope your tail grows back soon. Be good and try not to do that zip-zap-bump routine at night, alright?"
"At least a maid gets paid, you know..."
Growing up, I've never had a maid and Mama made sure we understood she wasn't one. I am not Mama and neither is Ah Tan her mom, so we figured it is not our place to be educating a person on tact, common sense and sensibility. Anyhow, we'd be more than a decade too late.
Gue ngak ngerti. Seriously. Mopping the floors for the third round one night for my `I've-lost-count-of-how-many-times'th turn, I was left with a tear-stained face and sore palms. Two hours of cleaning, during which my mind was preoccupied with finding words to make the acronym S.L.O.B. allowed me to fall asleep without murderous dreams and floors so clean your toes will wriggle and dance! Ahhh... there's always a bright side to everything. I am also pleased to report that S.L.O.B. can be personalised for specimens of both genders.
I can now fully comprehend how housewives and working mothers can break down in tears when their children refuse to help keep the house clean. It is not melodrama hystrionics or emotional blackmailing. You'll understand one day when you're living on your own under the same roof as a S.L.O.B. and you will thank your mother with all your grateful heart.
Redemption lies with a broom, a mop and a bucket of soapy water. Clean and redeem.
"Dear little cicak, I'm utterly sorry for dragging you for about 1.5 metres or so in the mop while I was cleaning the kitchen floor today. I was mopping under the influence of anger and frustration. I hope your tail grows back soon. Be good and try not to do that zip-zap-bump routine at night, alright?"
Did you ever hear the one where the cicak's broken tail would crawl into the ear of the person who broke it off while he/she was sleeping?
That freaked the heck out of me as a kid when my mum told me the story. :P
oh, i had a S.L.O.B. housemate once. gosh, how we hated her to the core! we refer to her as 'la-ta poh' (perempuan kotor) behind her back. hehe... luckily she moved after a few months, i think coz she can't tahan our excessive cleanliness! :Þ
the soothsayer: Yeah, my version's not so animated although still cukup menggelikan juga :)
sue: I feel you, sista... but it's already tiring enough to do double share of chores, no more energy left for hatred; just bewildered amazement, a little hope (you got to have some, always), lotsa patience and one in awhile, a much needed catharsis when the patience wears really, really, really thin.
i just love reading your blog. witty, just witty :)
Hee... thanks! :)