Frankly, I do not understand how domestic helpers think. I know that Ity and Fancy Cat have an insight that seems to capture some of the crazy mind games that go on in their heads.
So, as the season of goodwill approaches, I look back to what Santa brings, when in the shape of the helper.
On the 12th day of Christmas my helper brought to me:
12 pairs of odd socks (since when did I become a one-legged athlete?)
11 containers of unfinished meals (none enough to make up a mouthful)
10 bleached blouses (“Why do you put bleach on my wife’s clothes?”)
9 lids with no bottoms (“I don’t know where the bottoms are, sir”)
8 shrunken jeans (not all mine, though)
7 saucepans boiling (“I don’t know which one is big enough for the soup”)
6 shirts without buttons (“I don’t sew buttons, sah!”)
5 golden teeth
4 stripped beds (2 days before we travel :-o)
3 boxes of stale milks
2 destroyed gloves (just from washing dishes?)
And a penchant for doing silly things