Sometimes you have to make your own fun. Me, most times I don't intentionally make my own fun, it just happens.
Take this morning for instance. Before hopping into the shower, I remember to close the bathroom door. Madam Noelle our three mornings a week cleaning lady comes today. She has her own key.
A sigh of contentment escapes as I jiggle around under the shower because the water is hot and "clean-clear". "What do you mean?" I hear you say. "Clean-clear" is the opposite of "reddish-brown", the colour of our water just before the rainy season arrives. It's difficult to explain the euphoria one feels when the tap is opened and the water is "clean-clear". It simply means the bath won't stain (our shower head is over the bath), my hair will remain silver (I'm an ash blonde you see), the white laundry will loose the blotchy light orange tint and I can once again rinse my mouth with tap water after brushing my teeth, as opposed to using water of the bottled variety.
My ablutions completed, I exit the bathroom clad in my towel, that for once I wrapped around my sexy body properly. I glance over to our open plan lounge noticing Hilton's desk chair standing by our dining table. My eyes casually stroll over to his desk and in so doing they notice a step ladder and four men fixing the holes in the roof from the leaking pipes just before Christmas, who all happen to look in my direction at the same time!
I must be going deaf! I never heard a thing whilst in the bathroom. So with a hasty "salama" (hello) I discreetly (as if that was necessary!) slipped into my bedroom where I hysterically contemplated my narrow escape!
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