The one where I dish the dirt

Whilst I wouldn't say I was obsessed with cleaning, I do like to think that I keep my house in a reasonably clean and tidy state.  I hope that if you popped over for an unplanned (but always very welcome) cuppa with me that you would find the house looking tidy but lived in.  There may well be dishes in the sink that need washing, Playstation leads across the lounge floor, and paperwork piled on the table ready to be filed - but all in all - it is generally tidy and comfortable to be in.  That is my understanding anyway.

Which is why, last week, when I had the afternoon free to do some housework, I had a little bit of a shock!  Perhaps my idea of a clean and tidy house really needs to be revisited and revised!  Had I been deluding myself?

The next few paragraphs I do not share with ease, as it may well reveal a little bit too much for comfort.  Hopefully it wont have a negative impact on the frequency of friends' visits to the house.   I am not so sure though ... as I know how shocked I was myself!  Am I really ready to dish the dirt?! 

Having dusted and polished the entire house, I turned my attention to the carpets; it was time to vacuum.  I carried the vacuum cleaner upstairs, turned it on, and set to it.  In no time at all, upstairs was finished.  However, it was a while before I made my way down the stairs.  I couldn't believe it.  I stared at the vacuum cleaner, which sat proudly upright in my son's bedroom.  It was as if it smuggly said: 'Look how dirty your house is!'  and believe me - it was!!  Gross!

Warning: For those of you who have a 'thing' with dirt - I suggest you quickly abort this post - and find a 'cleaner' one to read ...