Remember what’s this house is all for, to fill with happiness, a real gift!
Remember what we’re doing this all for:D
The Clean/Dirty/Black floor syndrome!
Now this story begins with our Husband growing up in a house or let’s says a palace, where it was difficult to find a speck of dust. Not that his mother didn’t go around looking, with plastic gloves on, Jay Cloth ready, sprays and licked finger ready to inspect the immaculate surfaces of the floors. Even more so the sinks shinned better than a mirror with some being constantly attended with the goal to never be used almost, just to shine. The toys had special places, rooms and the couches in the Lounge were not to be sat on. Don’t even think about walking on the carpets with your shoes on, and complete devotion to the cleaners and hoovers that came daily. However our Husband must grow up and move on to his own humble abode with Wifey. Wifey grew up in an opposite story and…
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