My house needs cleaned. I know it; the house knows it. But, when you weigh the importance of a clean rug to the intelligence and culture gained from a good book, a few pieces of lint aren't that big of a deal.
So what if I have enough dirty dishes to cover every surface area in the kitchen! Mr. Knightly is suffering from the pain of watching Emma flirt with Frank Churchill. The man's feelings should not be thrown out the door like dirty dishwater. (Pun intended)
My once white linoleum floor is now a soft blend of dove gray and buttercup yellow, but I think it compliments the cover of my Great Expectations novel splendidly. Pip pip. Jolly good.
I don't mind shoveling the unfolded clean laundry aside in order to find a spot on the couch to park my bahookie. The sweet lilac smell of the detergent and the enveloping piles of towels only enhance the magic between the guy and girl in my newest romance novels. Plus, the cloth muffles my squeals of happiness for the fictitious Aphrodite and Adonis as they glide through the labyrinth of true love. Now, the neighbors' dog won't have another heart attack.
Who can dust after reading Bella's heartbreaking efforts to get Edward to commit to a relationship with her? Besides, don't the cobwebs transport you to the musty forests of the Pacific Northwest? Mmmmm, I can just smell the human blood pumping to your heart in excitement.
Oh, wait, there's the doorbell. A package for me? It must be that order of books I just bought off Amazon. The bathroom can wait until next week.
Bethany Bachman writes in Philadelphia and does clean her house. She promises.
Check out www.storypraxis.com for more fiction fun!
No comments:
Post a Comment