I cleaned under the bed today.
This was not a minor operation. As with deep-sea diving, it is imperative that you bring your own oxygen, bracing for the sight of weird creatures, lost cities, sunken ships and other such wonders as dwell in the great Beneath.
During today’s excursion/archeological survey, for instance, I discovered: eighteen novels, a My Little Pony colouring book, a carton of ancient School Magazines, four empty shoe boxes, five pens, dust bunnies beyond measure, no less than sixteen water bottles and a copy of Scouts In Bondage. For those of a sceptical demeanour, I include photographic evidence of these last two. Behold!
(It’s worth noting that Scouts In Bondage belongs to my husband. This is vastly less disturbing once you realise that the slim, brown volume in question actually contains pictures of unfortunately suggestive book titles from eras past, as opposed to, say, the kind of illicit photographic materials likely to result in divorce, arrest and custodial sentancing, in that order.)