I had my kitchen just spick and span this morning after I spent a considerable amount of time in there. I stood back and admired it all, felt a real sense of achievement. Unfortunately there are others around who were not prepared to starve for the day so I could admire my hard work for more then 15 min. Infact it was less then 15 min but being a gracious person I will stretch it out. So I have spent my day guarding my kitchen, watching it like a hawk, stalking anyone who looked like they were going to leave anything out. Much to my distress they all were not as passionate about my shining sink as I was. I find the kitchen is such a task to conquer everyday and in a cruel twist we have our main meal of a night when we are most tired and we have to clean our biggest mess. I am not complaining I am more whingeing about this fact. So as I hunted everyone down little William saw this as an opportunity to attack where it hurts, he threw flour across the floor and to add insult he stood on it and piddled So it was not a powder substance I had to clean up but more a sticky paste. I know he is a charming child

Oh and remember my post on the dishwasher with the stick  (The Dishwasher, the Crazy Woman and the Stick!) , well I must report it is still the same way. Are you shocked by this?