“Perfection is terrible. It cannot have children.”
Sylvia Plath
After all the time I’ve known Maude, it’s actually me who takes the trouble with washing up. I can’t stand dirty plates. Washing up doesn’t simply happen, it needs to be done properly. Firstly: all the dishes need to be stacked on one side of the sink, not both, otherwise it’s all too confusing. I don’t wear gloves, although I should, so I can check and see whether dishes are squeaky clean, and oh yes you simply must rinse before dirtying, otherwise that soapy stuff gets into your insides and gives you indigestion. Most importantly of all is to do washing up when it lands. Otherwise it cakes both the plates and also your wondering mind. – Now we have a clear understanding. Maude will order the taxis and make sure I pay my taxes, but I do insist on doing the washing up. P.S. With reference to the unfortunate Sylvia Plath, I do think it would be nice to have children as long as it does not interfere with shopping and fucking. Or to be precise Sous Vide Cuisine after a Shiatsu massage. To be furtherly precise using Champaca Oil.