I banished all dirty pants, stinky socks, sprayed fresheners, and chucked armloads of our possessions into already crammed cupboards, wedging them tight, hoping against hope she doesn't attempt to open any of them and be consequently be injured by a torpedo of shoes/books/toys/etc. I basically did 2 hours of prep work for her, knowing full well that next week she'll get the shock of her life when she see's how we REALLY live (sigh). Oh well, by then it will be too late :)
In fact this morning as my husband was cycling off to work I commented on the fact that I am a better cleaner than any of the cleaners we've ever employed. I then thought aloud that perhaps I should start hustling for cleaning work round the playground at Egg's school. I'm sure I could drum up some business on curiosity and pity alone.
He didn't respond to my rant but then I was momentarily distracted by the sight of him in full biking regalia (it never fails to shock and astound me, no matter how many times I see him like that). He has tragically added a bright yellow pair of florescent wraparound sunglasses to his get-up, and though they wouldn't look out of place at a festival like Glastonbury, they do look rather odd on the grey streets of London. However since I do not have to be seem with him when he looks like this I am happy to turn a blind eye.
Anyway, I'd best go. Dumpie has flung some more garden tools over the side of our garden terrace, thereby losing them forever and necessitating yet another visit to our local hardware store. Helpfully, he's also taken an interest in the new 'laydee' currently hoovering the stairs and is following her devotedly, leaving a sticky trail of apple juice in his wake as he tries to engage her in conversation. She doesn't speak very good English, but that doesn't seem to be proving a deterrent as neither does he...