Today I had dedicated my entire day to getting on with some housework, because I am a lazy person and try and do all of it on one day.
If it cannot fit into that day it has to be shunned to housework day next week instead. This is a self-perpetuating feedback loop of never quite getting enough cleaning done, but fuck it. I have a life, and only 0.43% of that is caring about cleaning. My housemate was also working from home today, which he tends to do once or twice every fortnight.
As we were both stood in the living room we heard a peculiar sound. It was one we hadn’t heard before. It was loud, sounded like it was formed of many things, and had fairly short bursts of noise.
It sounded a bit like Godzilla with constipation.
Instantly we knew the cause of it – the neighbour’s triplets – but it was a question of what exactly they were doing. We stood and listened for a little while longer before concluding that we had no sodding idea what was going on. Upon running up to the second floor and looking out over the garden we located the source of the noise.
Thrasher was scooping up all of the gravel from the garden into a plastic bucket. The problem with this was that the gravel was around the edges of the neighbour’s garden, packed in to fill the gaps between the flower pots and the fence. And it was fancy garden gravel. The kind that are a dull purple colour which all middle aged Mum’s think is a nice addition to the skirting boards, when really everyone else wants to shout ‘no-one cares about the skirting boards, no-one will even see them, we are not paying more money just so people can not see them’.
With his newly mined gravel, Thrasher then climbed the steps of the large plastic slide. He dumped the entire bucket of gravel down the slide, where it gathered at the bottom covering a series of the hell-spawn’s toys. He repeated this until all of the toys were obscured, where upon he sat at the top of the slide admiring his handiwork.
Godzilla had taken a shit, and it was a good one.