It is Saturday morning.
I'm in the kitchen, on all fours scouring away at the oven floor. Several minutes into the scrubbing I can feel a slight wetness on my index finger, water appears to have seeped in through a small hole in my marigold rubber gloves. I'm almost done so I carry on scrubbing the sides, followed by the oven door then rounding up with the metal grids.
Still, on all fours, I notice a presence with me in the room. I tilt my head towards my chest. It's an upside down view of my mother, she's standing in the kitchen doorway grinning from ear to ear 'you are good when it comes to cleaning you know, your husband will be lucky'.
I let out an exasperation ', ahh leave it out mum.' *rolls eyes*
'it's true, you don't joke when it comes to cleaning.'
In my head, I'm like 'lol that's because I have OCD mother' but I just wipe the surfaces down and move on to mopping.
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