Tag: Cleaning

Guest Post: 7 Reasons To Add A Second Bathroom To Your Home

Of all the fun things you probably want to add to your home (hot tub, bar, air hockey table) a second wash room is probably fairly low on the list. But they’re easy to add using cloakroom suites and could end up making your life better:

1. Free Up Your Main Bathroom. How many of us, especially in the morning when the adults are getting ready for work and the kids for school, wish we had more than one bathroom? You’re stood outside, waiting patiently to use the toilet or basin, and someone sprints in while you’re dancing around trying to hold in your wee. And you’re back to waiting another 20 minutes as they do their make up or take an overlong shower.

2. Add Value To Your House. While your neighbours spend their time and money creating feng shui gardens and hiring expensive interior designers in an effort to make their home more fashionable and try to sell it, the age-old technique of actually adding something practical will see your home become more attractive to potential buyers.

3. For Workmen. If you have someone working in your garden or doing some decorating, they’re probably going to be coated in a layer of grime and gunk and the last thing you want is them walking through your house and making it all dirty. If you have a washroom downstairs that they can use you will be able to keep your upstairs clean.

4. For Visitors. Similarly, if you have a guest around then it is much easier to direct them to a downstairs washroom should they need to use the loo and it means not wondering what they are up to when they wander round your private space upstairs. You probably don’t invite thieves into your home, but it will help you remove temptation from anyone.

5. To Make Cleaning Easier. If you’re cleaning downstairs, then having an additional sink to get water from and toilet to dispose of dirty water in would make life easier. Although jogging back and forth up the stairs will keep you fitter.

6. To Keep The Home Smelling Fresh. Having a toilet that someone can use rather than stinking out the room that has your shower in will make the home smell nicer and make bathing more pleasurable. Particularly if anyone in the house is keen on their spicy food.

7. To Prevent Mold. This is an odd one, but if you use the same bathroom a lot you will find that it tends to stay damper and you may end up with something resembling a furry mushroom patch growing in a corner. However, if you split the use across two (or more) bathrooms then they won’t be as damp and you won’t have mold growing in them. This works best if you have the space to consider a shower, or even one of the many shower bath suites available.

February 10, 2012
7 Reasons That a Dream Bath is Better Than an Actual Bath

Hello 7 Reasons readers! I have a confession to make. I love baths, but it turns out that for years I’ve been bathing wrong. I know this because this morning I had an epiphany (or should that be a baptism as I’m writing about baths). I woke up, having dreamt that I’d had a bath, and that dream bath was better than an actual bath. Here are seven reasons why.

Fortunately not my bath.

1. It Saved Time. The major problem with taking a bath – and the reason that most people end up settling for showers – is the amount of time it takes. It takes time to fill them up and you tend to spend a lot of time in them. This takes a substantial chunk out of the day. Dream baths, however, are different. You can spend hours in a dream bath and it’ll only take seconds out of your life. That’s time that you would have been using to sleep anyway. It’s like being given the gift of time but there’s no wrapping paper to recycle, which saves further time. It probably makes time.

2. It Was The Right Temperature. My dream bath was the correct temperature, which is approximately halfway between “Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! Ooh! Ooh!” and “Gah!” Actual baths are always intemperate and usually end up turning that initial cautious toe either red or blue. Or brown, if the bath hasn’t been cleaned.

3. I Was Able To Share It. Sharing an actual bath is seldom the dreamy, romantic pastime it is popularly portrayed as. When sharing a dream bath though, your eyes will already be closed so you can share it with absolutely anyone. I shared mine with my wife who was a reluctant and water-shy cat named Marmalade. Eventually she settled down and enjoyed the bath, right up until the moment that she morphed into a roof-tile and sank without trace at the tap-end, forcing me to eat the rest of the yoghurt alone.

4. Finding The Soap. In your actual bath, you’ll probably find that you spend approximately 8.4% of your time trying to find the soap that you’ve just dropped (which is not as surprising an experience as trying to find it when in prison, but it is still rather an irksome chore). In the dream bath, however, there’s always soap, probably from Lush. And you can bathe safe in the knowledge that it will never, ever have a pubic hair stuck to it. Unless, of course, that’s what you dream about, in which case you’re making my dreams seem positively conventional. And you should never sleep again.

5. No Interruption. My dream bath – unlike my actual baths – wasn’t interrupted by anyone knocking on the bathroom door asking to use the toilet. It was interrupted by a pelican asking for directions to Mr Bobble’s House of Wobbles, but I got rid of him simply by clapping my hands together and shouting “Muffins!” He was far easier to deal with than the desperate and persistent aspiring toilet-users that blight actual baths. Sometimes it seems that pregnant women want to pee just to spite you, and during a long bath, when you’re sharing a house with a pregnant lady, you can find yourself being spited several times. Then that finishes and for the next eighteen years you’ll have a child that will interrupt you in the bath. In my dream bath that did not happen. Obviously, my sleep was interrupted by the child, but that’s a slightly different thing. Probably.

6. No Cleaning. Unlike your actual bath, you’ll never have to clean your dream bath – unless you actually dream about cleaning baths, in which case, thank you, mine was spotless when I got in and I really enjoyed the scented candles and the petals floating on the surface. The meticulously constructed wigwam of bath-towels might have been a step too far though, but you won’t find me complaining. Not least because I can hide in the wigwam while I’m doing so. For other people that don’t clean baths in their sleep, the good news is you won’t have to clean the bath in your sleep. That’s good news.

7. Wake Refreshed And Ready. Nothing prepares you for your day like a dream bath because – like nothing – having a dream bath is not actually having a bath. You will, however, wake feeling refreshed, invigorated and ready for your day; I know I did. You’ll have to spend a large part of that day dodging mirrors and people with a sense of smell, but surely that’s a small price to pay for the amazing time saving and great start to the day. And how close do you really want people to stand to you anyway? With a dream bath, you can keep them at armpit’s length. It’s all win.

August 25, 2011
7 Reasons You Should Never Throw Away Your Left Contact Lens

Jon had to get this close to see what he was doing

1. Replacement. I wear monthly disposable contact lenses. For those not in the know it means I can wear a pair for 28, 30 or 31 days before they automatically dissolve into my iris. Occasionally though, the lenses become irritating or torn before the 28, 30 or 31 day limit arrives. When this happens I get rid of them and put in a new lens. It makes sense. So yesterday when my left lens started irritating me, I threw it in the bin. I then went to bed. And I slept. Soundly. This morning I rose, showered and went to put a new lens in. And this is when I realised I really should have checked I had a spare left lens before I got rid of the irritable one. Because I didn’t. There was no lens. Not one. Zilch. Oh dear.

2. 2006. England lost to Portugal on penalties and I broke my leg playing cricket. As far as I can remember those are main the highlights from that year. You probably still have visions of at least one of these. Something else happened in 2006 though. I bought a pair of glasses. You’d probably only remember this if you were my joint optometrist/stalker. The glasses in question can be seen above. Now, five years is a long time in eye years. Mine have deteriorated quite a lot and as such so have the minus numbers on my prescription. As a result, unless I am up very close and personal, I can’t see a bloody thing through them. The wise among you may question why I haven’t purchased glasses since 2006. Well, I have. It’s just that I sort of lost them. Twice. And losing stuff is an expensive hobby. Which is why I haven’t bought anymore since. So basically, I’m blind. I’m wearing these glasses but I’m blind.

3. And Scary. I don’t like me in glasses. Especially these glasses. I think I look like I am trying to look inside your brain. And I’m not. I’m really not. To be honest with you I’d probably struggle to find your head with these on. But I can’t tell everyone who sees me that I am not as scary as I look. If someone came up to me and told me they were not as scary as they looked I wouldn’t believe them. So how can I expect other people to believe me? Until I can get my eyes on a new lens I am going to have to look directly at the floor. At all times. If I can see where it is.

4. Vision Express. I don’t know much about other opticians as I’ve always been with Vision Express. For contact lenses at least. They’re a touch on the expensive side but they do offer added benefits. Apparently. And a free quarterly magazine which I last received in 2009. So I guess they could improve their service a bit. One thing they do offer is free replacement lenses if you accidentally tear one (or throw it in the bin). The two mile blind walk to the branch is somewhat frustrating, but at least you know you’ll be able to see on the return journey. Or at least you would be able to if Vision Express had the lenses you require in stock. If they don’t you have little option but to make the blind walk home. And no, you can’t get a bus. You’ll probably get on the wrong one. Or get in the cab of a fire engine. You might get lucky though, it might not be moving like the one I tried to get into was.

5. Irrational Behaviour. Now, I have never felt the inclination to rummage around in bins before, but that could well have been because I have never lost my sight before. That’s why you’d have found me in a bin at about 11am today. Or my hands at least. Don’t worry, there was nothing else in the bin apart from a tissue. And the packaging from a new pen. Hopefully you will have worked out by now that I was looking for my left contact lens. I found it. All crisp and brittle. In a move that would startle eye health experts the world over the lens is now sitting in cleaning solution in my desperate attempt to bring it back to life. And you know what, yes, I am going to try and wear it again. Because I’m a rebel. An irrational rebel.

6. Dishonesty. I wear my contacts every day. Except Sundays. That at least is what I tell my optometrist. Obviously, being a normal person, I wear my contact lenses every single day including Sunday and lie to my optometrist. Oh, don’t pretend you’re not the same. But now I’m not wearing contact lenses at all. Which means when I tell my optometrist that I wear my contact lenses every day except Sunday I’ll be lying about six days of the week. At least when I wore my lenses I was only lying about one day of the week. Throwing away my contact lens has made me dirty,

7. Time. Throwing away a contact lens destroys your day. Or, in this case, the next day. It’s now 2pm. Today’s 7 Reasons post should have been uploaded at 9am. That’s five hours ago. Trying to restore my sight – and so far failing – has taken five hours! That means I am five hours behind schedule. This means I will have to have my lunch at 6pm. And my dinner at midnight. I’ll go to bed at about 3.30am. And get up at about 11am. And the process will continue. Always. I’ll never post a 7 Reasons piece on time ever again. I’ll be late for my wedding. I’ll try and make a baby in the middle of the biscuit aisle in Tesco. I’ll end up in the wrong coffin. This is a disaster. Because I can’t see I am always going to be five hours behind the world.* And not just in the brain department. What a nightmare. What an absolutely hidoeus nightmare my life has become.

*Unless I move to New York.

May 4, 2011
7 Reasons That the IKEA Plastis is the Ultimate Washing-Up Brush

The IKEA Plastis is amazing. It’s truly a thing of wonder. Here are seven reasons that it’s the ultimate washing-up brush.

1. It Creates Envy. The IKEA Plastis washing-up brush is capable of provoking great envy. I first saw one in a friend’s kitchen four years ago and, ignoring all of the more expensive and conventionally desirable objects that surrounded it (almost the entire Le Creuset range of pots and pans, a very swanky digital radio, a fully-tiled kitchen floor), I made a beeline straight for it. “This is amazing!”, I exclaimed, as I picked it up, wide-eyed, to examine it. “It’s a washing-up brush”, my friend replied, helpfully. “Yes, I can see that”, I said, “but it’s got a sucker on the bottom. It’s ingenious*.” And that was it. I had fallen in love with the simplicity and brilliance of the design. I wanted that washing-up brush more than I want a cat that can talk or the ability to levitate (which I would use mostly to surprise people in first-floor rooms). I had to have one.

2. It Creates Anticipation. “It’s from IKEA”, my friend said. “What! NNNNNNNNNNNNNNOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!” was my rational and measured response during which I adopted a posture worthy of Edvard Munch’s The Scream, but in a well-appointed Bolton kitchen. This may seem like an overreaction to the prospect of purchasing something from IKEA, but it really isn’t. Had the Plastis been available solely from the moon it would have been easier to get hold of. I live in the centre of a city. Because of this I choose not to own a car. This is because I live in the bit that most people drive to and I have no desire to visit the suburbs/industrial estates/retail parks/Frankie and Benny’s so I don’t need one. Public transport is also not a practical option when it comes to visiting our local IKEA and the Plastis isn’t available to order online (I checked. Weekly), so I had to wait four years until we required a sufficient quantity of shelving, lampshades, sideboards and other stuff in order to justify renting a car to get the Plastis. During that time I tried not to think of the brush every day**, but I thought about it a lot. They say that absence makes the heart grow fonder and, in the years that the brush was absent from my life, I grew very fond of it indeed. Perhaps too fond.

I stopped short of getting a tattoo of the Plastis.

3. It Makes Grown Men Jump For Joy. “There it is! There it is!” I exclaimed breathlessly to my wife while pointing to a display on the other side of a very large room in IKEA, before abandoning her and hurrying toward the stand of brushes. And there it was. Or, more excitingly, they were. There were loads of them, in several colours, standing upright in serried ranks on their suckers. There was an army of them. This is what it must be like to be The Queen during the trooping of the colour, I thought. After four, long years, I was finally about to get hold of a Plastis!. Obviously, I studied them all very carefully before selecting one and, while my wife was away playing with wardrobes, tape measures and shelving, I made my important decision. Though it wasn’t a very difficult one because…

4. The Plastis Comes In Red. This is important. As one of the rules of our kitchen (immediately after the rule that every time I paint the ceiling, something else will spring a leak and ruin it again) is that nothing goes in there unless it’s red. We have red pots, red pans, red blenders, red mug-stands, red radios, red everything. Josef Stalin and Ken Livingstone would get into our kitchen: Winston Churchill and Joseph McCarthy would not. Unless they’re any good at laying floor tiles (red), in which case, they’d be very welcome.

5. It’s Great Value. The IKEA Plastis is fantastic value priced, as it is, at £1.11. Not only does this mean that you can buy joy and fulfilment for less than the price of a cup of coffee, but – with its preponderance of 1s – should you wish to print this page out, it will be cheaper to do so as the number 1 uses less ink than any other number. Also, should you be near a superstitious type at this moment, the three ones will be causing them to say “Nelson!” and dance around, meaning that you get free entertainment too. Obviously, in our case, the fantastic value was slightly offset by having to buy a sideboard and rent a car to get one, but it’s still better value than paying council tax, which costs many times more and doesn’t make anyone happy.

6. It’s Even Better Value For Dishwasher-Owners. Because, as the people at IKEA will tell you, the Plastis is dishwasher-safe. Which means that you can wash your washing-up brush inside the dishwasher, which is great, because otherwise, if we didn’t have a dishwasher, we’d have to buy another washing-up brush to wash our washing-up brush with. So for dishwasher-owners, the cost of washing-up brush ownership is halved.***

7. It’s Got A Sucker. Obviously the best bit about the Plastis is the sucker, and since we got ours home I’ve been experimenting with it. I’ve stood it up on the draining board, I’ve stuck it to the wall, I’ve affixed it to the (red) biscuit tin and, best of all, I’ve stuck it to my forehead and chased the cat around the house pretending to be an alien (consequently, for the past two days I’ve had a large purple circle in the centre of my forehead which doesn’t look like it’s going away any time soon). There is literally nothing that can’t be improved by sticking a Plastis to it. Even people. The Plastis is awesome and one day, who knows, I might even use it to wash something up.

*I promise you, our conversations are usually far more interesting than this.

**Because that would be weird.

***Yes, I did use this argument in IKEA to justify purchasing the Plastis to my wife, who responded by using a technique that she has developed during our marriage called Smile & Nod.

January 27, 2011
Guest Post: 7 Reasons I am Better Than You

Hi there, it’s Saturday, so here’s a guest post. Curling up on the 7 Reasons sofa today is Horatio Pyewackett Caractacus Fearns who – when he wakes up – wants to explain why he’s better than you. And us, probably.

1. Fur. Ever tried to wear fur? No, of course you haven’t you timorous numpty, you timid wretch, you cowardy, cowardy custard. Because you’re fearful. You’re afraid of PETA. You think that if you don a fur coat you’ll be attacked by a mob of militant lefties who object to your sartorial decisions. But I’m not scared, PETA aren’t going to object to me wearing fur, because I’m better than you; wearing fur is my birthright, and I wear it as if to the manor born, without fear of reproachment. Because I’m awesome! Because I’m a cat!

2. Benevolence. I’m kind to my minions. Very kind. And I’m uber-agile, in fact, I can bend over backwards and lick my own bottom. But you can’t. You have to scrape bits from trees and roll them up into a ball in order to clean your own fetid arses. This is because you’re pathetic and incapable of washing yourself properly. But I’m not, I’m wondrous and supple and can cleanse my own ring with my tongue. Which, let’s face it, saves you a job, so I’m benevolent too.

3. Competition. So who’s the most awesome human that there is? That’s right, Superman. He can leap twenty times his own height; he can hear things that are going on miles away and he can’t be snuck up on while he’s sleeping. Well, me too. Superman, however, can be defeated by kryptonite. But I can’t, I can do all of those things with no fear of kryptonite or of looking like a dweeb at the fortress of solitude. Because I’m magnificent, and because I’m still rocking my fur coat while Superman’s attired in a thin, shiny number with his pants outside outside his lycra leggings. He looks like the world’s worst-dressed cyclist ever, and I just look amazing. Look at ME!

4. Night. You blundering dunderheads can’t even see in the dark. Want to know how many times I’ve fallen over a human when the lights are off? None. When oversized, underbalanced simpletons like you wander around without burning electricity, however, you’re endlessly falling over me (especially the tall one with the ginger beard). Because I’m abso-fucking-beauteously wonderful, and because I like to hang around in the hallway. To mock you. Because I can.

5. Temperature. You mewling, simpering feckless nonentities can’t even regulate your own body temperatures, but I can; I’m the master of my own temperature. The nearest you feeble people come to accomplishing that is the human inhabitants of the North-East of England: Geordies. But they lack my sonorous voice and natural grace. Also, despite their bravura, many of them die of hypothermia on their way home in the winter. But I haven’t. Ever. It would be a waste of one of my nine lives (eight better than you) if I were to do so, and I’m not prepared to do it.

6. Size Is Important. Just look at the size of yourself, you lumbering bioped. Look at the amount of space that your unwieldy, bloated, overstuffed body takes up. Where human designers prattle on about space efficiency as some sort of ideal, I live it. I am space efficiency. Because I take up less space than you. I can curl up into a tiny-weeny ball. Can you? No. Not at all. But I can. I’m fantastic.

7. Nature. I’m just naturally better than you. I am. When you poo, does anyone scurry around to scoop it up? No, of course not. You have to dispose of it yourself. But when I shit, one of my underlings comes and disposes of it for me. Every time. Because I’m a cat, and they’re not. In fact, everything revolves around me, abso-fucking-lutely-everything. Dinner is served at the regular hour at which I require it. Tradesmen come to repair the home in which I dwell and the humans who live here to serve me pay for it themselves. And, when they’re not feeding me or opening doors for me, they even let me use them as chairs. Would they do that for you? No, of course not. But they do it for me, because I’m better than you.

November 27, 2010
7 Reasons You Should Build A Castle

1. The Portcullis. So much better than shutting the door on an annoying visitor. A portcullis will make sure they definitely do not come back. Providing you get the timing exactly right that is. If you don’t, they may come back with an arm hanging off.

2. The Moat. A morning swim is a popular pursuit. It gets people ready for the day and keeps them fit. Unfortunately, most people don’t get the full benefit of the exercise because whilst doing laps in the local pool they cut corners. You can’t cut corners in a moat. If you try to, you’ll smash your head open. Very few people think this is a good idea. Hopefully you are not one of them. A few laps of your castle moat in the morning and you’ll be ready to take on the world. Wet, knackered and covered in piranha bites. Sorted.

3. The Keep. I don’t know about you, but I seem to have a lot of stuff. And most of the time I don’t know where to keep it. I rather suspect a Keep will do the job nicely.

4. End The Norman Monopoly. The Normans built most of our castles apparently. I am not sure who The Normans were – I imagine a cross between The Nolan Sisters and The Osmonds – but whoever they were, they have monopolised the trade. You can’t move for Norman castles in this country. Other people need to start building castles to bring down this evil empire. People called Jonathan or Marc or Mark. Whatever your name is, go and build a castle. Unless it’s Norman. In which case run. Run very fast.

5. Earn While You Live. The great thing about castles is that they are tourist attractions. They attract millions of visitors every year. And – providing they don’t know a back entrance into the grounds – they’ll have to pay for the privilege. What better way to earn a bit of extra money when you are out at work? And just in case you are worried about people stealing stuff, don’t be. Just put a nice looking rope in front of your dining table and a sign saying ‘Do Not Touch’. You’ll be amazed how effective it is.

6. Cleaning Bills. Proper castles didn’t have carpets. Or curtains. Or windows. Probably because the cleaning bill would have been extortionate. Do the same and all the money that you have saved can be put towards a new bailey. Or a trebuchet.

7. I’m The King Of The Castle, You’re A Dirty Rascal. For the first time in history, a nursery rhyme will actually have meaning. You used to have to stand on top of the climbing frame to say this little cracker, now you can stand atop a turret and shout it down to whoever walks along your drawbridge. Until you get the postman you want that is.

April 15, 2010
7 Reasons You Should Be Able To Quote Eleanor Roosevelt

1. “There are practical little things in housekeeping which no man really understands.” For use when your wife returns home from a bit of shopping, to see that you have tried to do the dusting as she asked, but you have just dusted around all the objects on the mantel piece. She doesn’t think this is a good enough effort.

2. “If life were predictable it would cease to be life, and be without flavour.” For use when your friends ask you why you don’t just settle down and get a normal job instead of being the perennial dreamer. A man who longs to catch one hundred buses in one night would fall into this category.

3. “I once had a rose named after me and I was very flattered. But I was not pleased to read the description in the catalogue: no good in a bed, but fine up against a wall.” For use when you think that to make a sex joke funny you must include crude and vulgar language or demonstrations.

4. “Autobiographies are only useful as the lives you read about and analyse may suggest to you something that you may find useful in your own journey through life.” For use when you are in Waterstones trying to work out what to buy your wife for her birthday. This should be enough to drag you away from anything that has Jordan’s face on it to something like Lance Armstrong’s It’s Not About The Bike: My Journey Back To Life.

5. “Friendship with ones self is all important, because without it one cannot be friends with anyone else in the world.” For use whenever someone suggests you may be getting a little narcissistic. Or when you are fourteen and your Mum has just found a photo of Posh Spice under the mat in the bathroom.

6. “A woman is like a tea bag – you can’t tell how strong she is until you put her in hot water.” For use when you are the producer of The World’s Strongest Woman.

7. “You gain strength, courage, and confidence by every experience in which you really stop to look fear in the face. You are able to say to yourself, ‘I lived through this horror. I can take the next thing that comes along’.” For use whenever you switch on the TV to find one of the following filling your screen: X-Factor/Britain’s Got Talent/The Persuasionists/America’s Next Top Model/Britain’s Next Top Model/Piers Morgan/Kerry Katona/Katie Price/Harriet Harman.

February 3, 2010
7 Reasons You Know He Was A Cub Scout

1. Good with targets. This harbours back to the days when he was obsessed with achieving. He was obsessed with achieving because in the Cub Scouts you were rewarded heavily. With badges. Anyone who is rewarded with badges at a young age is going to be programmed into thinking they will always be rewarded with badges. So they keep trying. And he probably likes achieving things three times over doesn’t he? That’s because you could get sports badges one, two and three. Not to mention cooking badges one, two and three. And even badge collecting badges one, two and three.

2. Good with names. Not only is he good at remembering names he is also amazingly talented when it comes to not laughing at funny names. This is because he often had to use the phrase, ‘Excuse me Akela, Baloo said you would help me with my woggle’. If you are not going to laugh at that you are not going to laugh at anything. (What was it with the Jungle Book names anyway?)

3. Good with knots. If his best moves in the bedroom are tying you up to the headboard then you can be assured that not only was he a Cub Scout, but that he also probably achieved the station of Sixer. To be absolutely sure of this ask him to explain what he’s doing. In 98% of cases he’ll explain that a Windsor Knot is the safest kind to tie you down with, it’s strong but easy to undo and is the preferred knot of the Queen. At this point he will rise and salute.

4. Good with navigation. He knows where to go. Whether it’s the middle of the night or the middle of the day he’ll be looking skyward and checking out the stars or the sun. Don’t suggest he uses his A-Z instead. That is a typical female thing to say and you are so much better than that. He’ll also be in a bad mood all day as you have just questioned his manhood. Don’t question his manhood either.

5. Good outdoors. Whether it is pitching a tent or making a fire, he’ll be good at it. You had to be as a Cub Scout. If you weren’t you died. And as he is alive you can assume he’s only dead on the instead. He doesn’t do emotion you see. Oh, he’s probably also very good at Morris Dancing. As a Cub Scout he was always grabbed by the Morris Dancers on weekend camping trips and made to skip around waving handkerchieves and jangling bells. It makes him sick. So don’t ask him to do it. He is all man.

6. Good with his hands. That’s good at cleaning them. And polishing his shoes. He does that with his hands too. And a cloth and brush and polish and stuff. In the Cub Scouts you lost vital points if you had dirty hands and unshiny shoes. He can’t quite remember why the points were so vital, but it probably had something to do with getting a badge for points accumulation. Next time he cleans your hands for you, give him a badge.

7. Good with stamps. A bit like when you interrupt him while he is watching England play rugby by asking bloody stupid questions like, “Ooh this looks a bit rough. Why did that man just grab that man and throw him to the ground?”, he’ll interrupt you while you’re writing a letter and tell you that the Penny Black is the oldest adhesive stamp and was issued on 1st May, 1840. He’ll also add that back then you had to lick them yourself and that tongue cuts were rife. You’ll want to slap him.

November 24, 2009