Chooch and I played with Crayola colored bubbles in the house, and I was STUNNED to see that it left stains on the floor. STUNNED.
Henry came home from work, stopped when he saw the sopping puddle eating through the floor, and asked, “Did you mop with the water that was left in the bucket?”
I said yes, of course. Why would I go out of my way to do it up proper-style? I’m not Donna fucking Reed.
Furthermore, don’t leave dirty water in the bucket if you don’t want me to use it because you know I can’t figure anything out that’s even the lightest shade of domestic.
Stomping into the kitchen to get clean water, he noticed the row of bubble bottles on the table and, in a tone reminiscent of Pee Wee blaming Francis, whispered, “Andrea!” with clenched fists.
She’s always sending Chooch things that require adult Henry’s supervision.
I went to work that day with my left hand stained blue.
It matched my eye shadow perfectly.
6 Responses to “(Notsomuch) Wordless Wednesday: Henry’s Household Role”
Say it don't spray it.
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Hahaha! I hate to clean. You should see my kitchen right now…I’m ashamed.
coach is the cleaner person at our house… okay so he’s the cook and the maid… and he does laundry… thank goodness he doesn’t complain much
I’m in so much trouble!
Havanas! I can see Henry handing you a mop as soon as you walk thru the door, if you ever visit!
You are still hilarious in a completely twisted way. Glad to see life is still dumping adventures upon you.
Hey old friend! So nice to see your name pop up over here. :)