Tidy Up

Tidy Up ©

By Michael Casey

Today was tidy up day in our house, when its best to hide and keep out of the way, lest you be tidied up and find yourself in the recycle bin. Or in my case left in the entry for the scrap metal guys to take away.

The wife started while I was trying to get milk from the fridge, she was in her combat gear, her bright red Korea pinny and her rubber gloves, looking very menacing indeed. As I took things out of the fridge she ducked and dived and removed shelves, and contents. The shelves needed cleaning and she was on a mission. I just wanted the marg for my toast, I had to duck and dive in our galley kitchen.

Then I went into the garden to eat my toast so that I would not be run over by our Shanghai kamikaze, as she dived and spun back and forth from the fridge to the sink. If you think cleaning women, or your old mum was a Force of Nature then you would not believe or possibly imagine what a Shanghai girl is like when in cleaning mode.

I then went and hid in the front room and checked my email to see if anybody had bitten the idea of broadcasting my shorts. Not yet was the answer. I had to hide again as the vacuum cleaner came out, I’m not good enough to be allowed to clean. I do have a very dodgy back and hip at the moment, but I’m not trusted enough to be allowed to clean. I did once remind her that I did take care of the house very well before her shadow darkened my door, no she’s not a vampire, vampire’s don’t caste shadows. If they did she would vacuum it up in double quick time.

So the day progressed and she talked to the world on her toy, while I tried to think of ways of getting the world to read my words. No it wasn’t me hacking the world’s computers today and making everybody go to my author page on Amazon. If only, if only.

The girls decided to get in on the act, they would tidy up their bedroom, which happens to be above my head. So the sound of laughter and small feet running backward and forward was like a metronome as I sat here typing/writing. Then the sound of plastic bags full of rubbish bouncing down the stairs.

Then I was invited upstairs to view their restyling of the bedroom. Wasn’t that a frame full of photos, wasn’t it at the top of the stairs before? Now the place of honour had one of their painting hanging  proudly there. As for the frame of photos, the photos had fallen off like autumn leaves. To reveal a notice board which they hung on the wall with glue tack, as no more nails are allowed in their room.

They came down for refreshment, then upstairs I could hear a noise like somebody breaking in. When I went upstairs to investigate all I could see was a dolls house shattered as if after an avalanche, the notice board had fallen off. However apart from that their room was all neat and tidy and looking bigger, a Tardis effect.

As for me, I was wondering what to write in the hope that a new story might swing it for me, and that some radio station somewhere will like to hear my shorts. My Tidy Up short.

the wife and fearsome cleaner