Lessons I Learned From My Ironing Lady

My ironing lady recently told me that she would need to reduce the hours she spends on our copious ironing pile. It was a sad moment, but I fully understood. After all, she has been ironing for us for over two years, and I have never paid her a dime.

The fact is, she’s more than just my ironing lady. She’s actually my pastor’s wife.

In Christian circles, there’s often pre-conceived notions of how a Pastor’s wife should look like and act. Being a volunteer ironing lady is not normally an expectation of the duties of a pastor’s wife. In fact, I would hazard a guess that there are Pastor’s wives have volunteers that do their ironing for them rather than the other way around. Which is fine, and I’m sure they are blessed by such service, and so they should be. But generally, Pastor’s wives do ‘important’ jobs like run the women’s ministry or kids program or are on stage on Sunday morning. Which are also great roles for Pastor’s wives – if that co-incides with their gifting.

The wife of our pastor, is not the type to enjoy being in the spotlight. And quite frankly, if she were forced to do this, she really would not be very good at it, because that is not what she was created to do. Which is why we are very blessed that her husband, (our senior pastor) and consequently our church are not the types to accept stereotypes. Within our community people are not forced into ill-fitting boxes, but rather encouraged to shine in the area that God has gifted them, according to their God-given character and personality. Within our church family, we hear teaching illustrating the Kingdom of God as an upside down scenario.  This upside down kingdom starts with central ingredient of our faith. Jesus. A king, set to earth from heaven. Born in a shed full of animals, to a teenage girl from a small country town. God, walking about as a man, in the most humble conditions, so that he can serve the people of the world in the best way possible.

Our upside down church is made up of people who feed the poor, reach out to the lonely, minister to the needy. Our little church is well known for fostering unity within the various churches and denominations within the city and voicing the message of forgiveness, healing and unity  throughout the nations. At first glance our church may seem insignifcant. Our church doesn’t have a fancy building, just an old warehouse once used for manufacturing. We don’t have an enormous congregation and there isn’t a cast of superstars lined up the front every Sunday morning. But within those walls, you will find Jesus there and you will find people loving others like Jesus loved, unconditionally and without expectation of rewards.

Which leads me back to my ironing pile.

After I became pregnant with the triplets and around the time I was starting to slow down and have to take things easy so that the babies would cook for as long as possible, Betty, our pastor’s wife, came and had a chat to my mother and asked what she could do to help.

Soon after, she started coming around to my house once a week and doing housework. That’s right, the wife of the senior pastor of my church was cleaning my toilet. This beautiful lady who is over 60 was making my children’s beds – bunk beds no less! As time marched by, the ironing pile started getting her attention more and more, and before long this is what she would do when she came over on a Wednesday. (Just as a side note, I will still blessed by another older lady in our church who used to come and do my housework on a Monday morning for the first few months after the triplets were born. Love the body of God in action!)

Late last year Betty let me know that she wouldn’t be able to help me as much. Of course I was totally fine with that. I have often been worried that I was using up her precious time when there were other tasks that she might better use her time doing. Her response to me when I once said this to her was, “Caitlin, you don’t need to worry about me. It’s an honour and a privilege to do this for you.” Who considers ironing an honour and privilege, I ask you? Somebody who understands the upside down nature of God’s kingdom. That’s who.

So, from one of the most unassuming women on the planet, (but I have learned that this makes her one of the greatest) I have learned not just about humility, but also a host of lessons that seem simple, but are actually helping me to become more Godly and a better wife, mother and woman.


Over time, without anything being said, I noticed that Betty developed a pattern of turning up at our place at 8:30 in the morning and leaving by 3 in the afternoon. One day she arrived with her own iron. My iron at the time had been dropped once and leaked water a bit. Betty had solved the problem by wrapping old hankies around the handle as she ironed. On that particular day she had not been able to find her hankies before leaving, so she arrived with her own iron to use instead because she didn’t want to be late. It made me marvel. I am regularly late to things. To give such an importance to a volunteer event with no prescribed time, is not something I would have considered doing. Occassionally Betty has had other things on the time that she normally comes to our house. She always lets me know in advance and most of the time she will come over, get my baskets of ironing and take them away then bring them back wrinkle free and hanging on hangers. I’m still working on not being late to things, but the image of Betty, always punctual and how much I have grown to appreciate her reliability, keeps driving me to improve in this area.


I have shared before the trials of raising a strong willed child. Sometimes I’ve felt self conscious as I’ve had to deal with these battles around Betty. Betty and Ian have raised five wonderful children, all adults now, serving God and excelling in their vocations.  I asked her once where she thought I could improve  in my mothering. She replied that she thought I was doing a great job. Which was encouraging, but I know also, that there are areas I can get better at. So on another occasion I asked what she think most helped in the molding and shaping of her children’s lives, she answered praying for them each night made a big difference. I already prayed for my kids at night, but it has given me renewed vigour to continue doing this!

When you have someone in your house, especially in the centre of the home, (we set the ironing board up in the living room), you know that there is no hiding exactly how your household operates. Betty has been able to see both mine and my children’s strengths and weaknesses. Never once have I felt even a sliver of judgement from her.  You cannot know how much of a comfort this is. I also know that she would never tell others of my own struggles. I know that I am messy, and can be bad tempered and forgetful and indecisive. Through Betty’s quiet presence and acceptance it makes me feel that I can rise above it, little bit by little bit. I can listen to the Holy Spirit’s guiding voice to conquer my vices without feeling the pressure of disapproval from somebody else. It also makes me want to be more gracious and accepting of others. Be

cause I have had a fresh revelation of the power that comes in offering somebody unconditional love and acceptance.


To give up a day a week, to do someone’s ironing – what a sacrifice! And that’s not all Betty does. She cooks for others, especially for a girls camp that happens regularly for girls that have not necessarily had great opportunities in life. Betty will give up her weekend to cook for this event, as well as time planning and preparing for it. She also helps look after her grandchildren throughout the week and regularly has guests in their house.

It has made me determined to do what I can for other people. I know Betty’s example will always remain in my mind, and will influence the way I respond to others around me when my own children are grown and I may have a little more time on my hands. There are few genuinely selfless people in this world. Betty really is one of them.

I am so thankful that I have got to know my pastor’s wife so much better in recent years. She has been such a blessing to me and my family. My children love her dearly and have just matter of factly, as children do, consider her a part of their lives. It probably helps that she has been holding them and talking to them for as long as four of them can remember. (Trent wasn’t even two when she started helping around the house.) Jayden has been particularly been perplexed in recent days to see me at the ironing board. I normally iron when he’s asleep, but it was getting out of control for awhile there, so I was doing it while the triplets were awake. My husband has also informed me that I do not iron not nearly as well as Betty. Which really is no problem because now we have gone back to our former arrangement where he irons his own clothes. Betty rang up the other day. She is an avid tennis fan and player and had been watching it on TV feeling guilty that she wasn’t doing anything. (Industrious, that’s another word you can use to define Betty.) She asked if I had an ironing pile she could take. I indeed did. A backlog from Christmas I hadn’t been able to clear. I don’t think I’ve ever been more thankful for the sport of tennis.

So Betty, thank you, from the bottom of my heart. I’m sorry for the embarrassment I’m sure you’ll feel when you see I’ve written this, but I’m not sorry for letting everyone know how wonderful you are and give a perfect example of a Christian woman working in God’s upside down kingdom according to your giftings. Thank you also to Ian, our senior pastor who as often is the case, is the total opposite to Betty. He certainly is not a behind the scenes man, but an out the front, strong talkative leader. Nevertheless, he resembles Betty in his servant heart, which makes the best leaders of all, after all. I’m thankful that he releases his wife, and multitudes of others within our church, city and nations to use our own personal giftings and find our purpose and passion and contribute to the Kingdom of God on this earth while we are awaiting the time we will dwell in our Heavenly home.

What do you think? Is it fair that Pastor’s wives have pre-conceived notions on how they should act? Can you share an example of how you have seen someone perfectly illustrating God’s upside down Kingdom?

Because it’s Tuesday, I’m linking up with Essentially Jess

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Lacey's Laundry

I asked my good friend Lacey to do a guest post for me. The topic she has addressed is dear to my heart! (As seen here) Of course my personal washing line quirks are a bit different. Starting with, I’m a bit of a double handler – I love to fold once I get inside, and although I started to when I was first married, I rarely hang things inside out. I wish I did sometimes, but I’m afraid I’m just too lazy! Laziness means I never, EVER colour code pegs on purpose! Anyway, Enjoy this post, and look forward to you sharing your laundering secrets with us!

Hi, I’m Lacey. I blog over at A Fruitful Life. I started my blog 18 months ago, as a way of documenting the (few) crafty things I was doing around the home outside of my very busy job. Over time, it has morphed dramatically, as I gave birth to my baby girl, gave up my rewarding career, and decided to stay home. I write all sorts of things about my life …. my crazy experiments into using DIY natural beauty products, and spectacular cooking failures like accidental-pork-chocolate-chip-cookies, along with crafting success stories, coping with a post-partum body and all sorts of other bits and pieces. I’d love for you to pop your head in, and of course, leave a comment sometime.

Anyway, I’m here to buy Caitlin a little more time cuddling babies, wiping bottoms and filling empty tummies. Caitlin and I share a common past: we were both teachers, and at the same school to boot. I also like to think that we share a common future: watching our beautiful families grow, as we cheer them along. Sorry, just a little sentimental there. I’ll get back to my frivolous writing style right about now.

So, in my former life as a teacher, my colleagues and I were sort of hard pressed to find topics to talk about other than our students, our workload and how much we hated all the curriculum rewriting we were being forced to do. Occasionally, though, we would stumble our way into a topic that made all those stresses fade away. One particularly memorable lunchtime, a Mr Brown* and I delved into a topic that had the entire table chiming in: how to hang out washing correctly.

I really love that Australians (pretty much) all hang their clothes outside on a line to dry in the sunshine. It’s so good for the environment and for our wallets. And, it meant that an Australian invented the rotating washing line for the world to benefit from. There’s something familiar and comforting about the routine of hanging fresh, clean clothes on the line, with the breeze tickling your face.

Everyone has their own little personal habits and rules. Here are mine:

  • The outer lines must all be filled up before going into any inner lines. 
  • Shake each item vigorously to remove wrinkles. 
  • T-shirts are hung from top, with pegs on the seams to prevent peg marks. The shirt should never, ever be stretched taut, but should hang loosely. 
  • Socks are hung on one side only, with the top hanging open to let in the breeze. 
  • Jeans hung inside out
  • Underwear is hung with one peg only, on the crotch
  • When taking the washing off, pull off all the socks and underwear and things that don’t need folding first, so that it sits at the bottom of the basket. 
  • Bigger items next, especially ones that don’t wrinkle easily. Fold as you go. 
  • Jeans/button up shirts/dresses/thing that crinkle last, laid gently on top. 

It drives me nuts when my husband and I hang out washing together. I try to enjoy doing it together, but he just doesn’t do things “my way” and I don’t cope. 

So … what’s the correct way to hang out (or take in) washing? Do you colour code the pegs? Or does it just not matter, as long as the clothes are dry? Please share! 
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Hanging In There.

I found it amusing looking at my clothesline today. It seems that we had a few friends hanging around there.

Triplet preparation continues. Sometimes it feels like if you are going to be of service to the triplet trio you just get hung out to dry.
(Can you spot the chick who’s been hanging around since the 80’s?)
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Woman, Thou Hast Sinned and Other Tales from the Washing Basket

I just sinned. I took the clothes off the line. When you’re pregnant with triplets, sin is relative.

The thing is my doctor has said I shouldn’t do the washing anymore. So I’ve (although really, it’s been my Mum mostly) has organised people to put the clothes on the line, and take them off the line. Unfortunately the Tuesday afternoon time slot hasn’t been filled yet. Which was fine today because I saw my neighbour when we were both collecting our mail. I asked her if she might take my clothes off the line. She happily agreed. Problem solved. Until she didn’t come home and the night air was getting damp. So I ducked out and took them off myself. Luckily unlike the last time I took the clothes off the line, there was no stomach pain afterwards…

Now I’m going to have to explain myself to my mother.

Whether you’re 10 and been caught stealing bikkies from the biscuit jar, or, well, 30 something, and pregnant with triplets, it’s never pleasant having to explain yourself to your mother.

I’m going to blame the neighbour. It’s not as good as blaming a sibling, because you know the neighbour’s not going to get roasted over it, but it will do. So long the heat is off me.

It’s an odd thing having people do your laundry. There’s all sorts of issues associated with laundry hanging that you may never consider should suddenly lose the privilege of hanging your clothes.

For instance, I normally have a hanging system. It closely resembles my mother’s hanging methods. I can remember grumbling when I was a teenager about mother’s system: hanging the underwear on the insides so people can’t see it, heavy items on the outside, so they have a better chance to dry, shirts are hung by the tails, etc, etc. In response to my grumblings, my mother would tell me that when I have my own house and my own clothesline I can hang it whichever way I like, but until then….

Inevitably, by the time my frontal lobe developed giving me the brain cells I was missing as a teenager, Mum’s way of doing things made remarkable sense, and that’s how I continued to hang clothes.
But everyone has their own way, and now when I look out at all the assorted ways that assorted people hang my washing, I just need to let it go. “It doesn’t matter that the trouser hung by their pant legs instead of their waistline, I tell myself.” I chide myself for my silliness, because after all, I’m very grateful for the help.

Just as well I’m not a complete washing Nazi and insist on colour coding pegs or anything.

Or there’s the delicate subject of the delicates. It’s a tad awkward to know your friends are hanging your undies. Especially when they hang what I classify as my ‘overnight undies’. That’s the underwear which has been a faithful companion for many years, however they have reached the twilight of their elasticised lifespan. I’m not so harsh as to immediately throw away these loyal, constant companions. I continue to don them as my evening wear. There’s nothing more comfy then slipping on your jammies, and your big overstretched undies and settling down for the night.

But, oh dear, what do people think when they hang them on the line? I’ve considered throwing them out, but if there is ever a time where I appreciate mis-shapen panties. It would be now, when almost everything I seem to wear feels considerable tight.

And so, they bask in the sunlight still.

Which can be unfortunate, because not everyone is as clever at hanging as my Mum. I have gone outside and found these unfortunate items of apparel on the outside line, on full display for the neighbourhood to see.

We all know that you lose a certain amount of dignity and decorum when you are pregnant. I just wasn’t prepared for this one!

So, do you have a laundry washing/hanging/folding system/obsession?

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Nesting inspired organisation – The Playroom Cupboard.

So, to continue with my nesting series –  or ‘attempting to be organised although I hate the process of organising’.

Once upon a time I had reached an admirable level of organisation in this cupboard. I had sorted collage, paints, craft materials etc. into boxes. However, in the last few months, the temptation to stuff them into the cupboard without putting them in the correct box became too great, which then led to the inability to get to the correct box because of all the clutter. Which led to not putting the boxes back away (due to extra clutter that had accumulated somehow during a craft activity) and the boxes had been stashed around the house. It’s just a downward spiral really…

And even after my latest organisational efforts, I’m left with a whole heap of crap bits and bobs that I can’t throw out or don’t know where to place. Here’s what I still have left. This is why I hate organising. This basket stresses me out.

So, I re-organised the boxes. Took away some boxes that had just become dumping boxes and sorted them into new boxes. The top shelf had never been completely pleasing, but I’ve decluttered it a bit, thrown out some things and boxed the children’s games in a new more accessible box. Made a huge difference.

So this is what it looks like now.

The boxes in the shelves mainly hold craft items. (Collage box, paint boxes, various bits of paper boxes,The blue box up the top holds various games with lots of small pieces that I don’t let the children play on their own (for obvious reasons). The clear box is toddler puzzles. Hanging are some dress ups. One of the white baskets has containers of pens, pencils, glue, glitter etc. The other white basket is for dumping things in when I’m in a hurry. I’m making a rule I need to empty into it’s correct places regularly, and not continue dumping if it’s full. Fingers crossed I keep my own rule.

One box is full of bigger kid puzzles, 2nd box is kiddy games. There’s a stack of boxes of grown up games up the top.
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Pre-Triplet Nesting Instinct – But Oh Dear, I Hate Organising.

I’m very happy to report that for me the nesting instinct has kicked in early during this pregnancy with triplets. With the other two pregnancy’s I’ve always had a huge list of what I want to get done, but I rarely get motivated until towards the end. (Which may have nothing to do with nesting, but rather my inclination to procrastinate and tendency to perform best before a deadline.) I guess I know in the back of my mind that the chances of getting anything done towards the end will be just wishful thinking.

I’ve been noticing as I browse through random housewives blogs that there is a often a theme. It seems that the average, (although I’m desperately hoping it’s not the average, because it makes me look bad), housewife domestic engineer is enthusiastic to proclaim her love of organising. She will have a wonderful selection of ‘before’ pictures of her already tidy cupboards and house and then ‘after’ pictures where minor improvements have been made, which really do make it look better. Now don’t get me wrong. I am in awe of these women, they astound and amaze me. I even subscribe to some of their blogs in the hope that something will rub off on me. (If it were only that easy, but sometimes I do pick up a good idea or two.) I love looking at their pictures, it’s like a fantasy land for me.

As inspired as I am after visiting a tidy persons home (real or virtual), the reality remains.

I want a clean house. I hate housework.
I want to be organised. I hate organising.

There is no buzz for me while I’m cleaning or organsing things. I can remember The Accountant’s Grandma being absolutely astonished once when I shared my strong dislike for housework. Listening to her talk gave me a glimpse of why her house was always immaculate. She was passionate about housework and sincerely enjoyed it, even loved it! She is the type of woman I will never be, but will always wish to become by some miraculous transformation! Of course when the task is complete there’s the buzz of satisfaction, so I’ll share with you some of my recent efforts. But the process of getting there. Ugh.

The first jobs I have been tackling has been my cupboards. They have been steadily getting more disorganised, and really needed attention. Because the desire to clean struck me so suddenly I don’t have before pictures, which probably saves me a bit of embarrasment anyway. However, if you look at my ‘after’ picture of our wardrobe, I’d say it would look like a ‘before’ shot. That’s because you didn’t see before where the floor was so cluttered that you could hardly walk in safely.

Hopefully this will be just stage one of walk-in-robe organisation. I’ve got to sort the shelves. Of course I have a dilemma here. To make it look asethetically pleasing I think I need to get rid of clothes so they look pretty in a single stack, but I don’t want to. Plus I don’t think my clothes would ever look particularly pretty on the shelves. I mean how do you make a stack of shorts look good? The next move would be cane baskets. Still, I don’t think I’ll get as much storage space. Plus, finding the right sized baskets is incredibly hard! Ah. Dilemma’s. Feel free to offer suggestions if you are a domestic goddess.

What I am proud of is the re-organisation of shoes. This shoe rack used to be in the garage, however, the lower shelf never seemed to get used and shoes tended to pile up everywhere. I had been storing my shoes in their boxes. Which should work well, except I rarely put them back in the boxes and was more likely to have a pile of shoes on the floor. Now, I just have my boots in boxes, as they tend to get dusty, and don’t fit on the shelf anyway.

And this is our new alternative in the garage. The Shoe Shelf. Cheapest book shelf we could find. Much easier to shove shoes in there. I like that we used some excess carpet as well. That way our tootsies don’t get cold when we pad out onto the cement to retrieve our shoes.

I’ve sorted the playroom cupboard as well. But even the memory of the experience is exhausting me, so I’ll share that some other day. Plus, true to form, there is housework that needs to be done. The floor is in need of a mop and I have my book club meeting here tonight. I really need to stop procrastinating, otherwise I’m going to disgrace myself by the time they arrive!

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Oh Happy Day

Don’t you just love those days when you’re just rockin’ your gig?

I had one of those yesterday. One of those perfect days, where even though everything is not perfect, you feel like you are doing a good job, being productive and making your corner of the world a better place. Since I’m still basking in the glow of self satisfaction, let me share it with you.

I got up early, hoping for a bit of ‘me time’, but no sooner had I started moving did both boys appear. That is the youngest boys. The Accountant is very committed to his stance to not rise any earlier then necessary. No matter. Got them chomping on their weet-bix and had enough time to do a blog entry while I ate my own breakfast. Jumped in the shower, (always a goal of mine before The Accountant leaves, otherwise I’m in PJ’s for hours as Toddler T gets into copious amounts of mischief while I am in the bathroom), came out and took over from The Accountant who was playing a very educational maths game with J Boy. I won, and Little Mr. Competitive is working on appropriate responses when losing and made some admirable progress.

We started to play another game, but halfway through J Boy was starting to lose interest and Toddler T was no longer satisfied playing by himself. He had done a stellar effort playing for half an hour. I am constantly amazed at how different life has been since he has hit the 18 month milestone. Last month he wouldn’t even touch his toys. Truly, he’s never cared too much about any toys, then all of a sudden the scales fell from his eyes and they were suddenly cool!

So, we moved into the playroom. Played stacking pegs with Toddler T. If you want a quality toy for your toddler. I highly reccomend these. Great for hand eye co-ordination, and then as they get older they can do all sorts of things with patterns and sequencing. J Boy still enjoys playing with them on the odd occassion. (Hint: don’t buy a cheap set though. They stick together, making it hard to pull apart and kids lose interest really quickly.) I bought them from a Learning Ladder party. Check it out here on page 17 of the catalogue.

Meanwhile J Boy was convinced to play a solo game of fruit dominoes. I joined in and we played a few games together while Toddler T continued engrossing in stacking pegs. He soon discovered it was awesome to throw the pegs around the room, so instead we packed the pegs up and started to build block towers for him to destroy instead.

Next, onto morning tea. Homemade pecan and pear cake and fruit.

And why not stay in your PJ’s until lunchtime on a cold rainy day?

 Then we drew on the glass doors with some special ‘glass chalk’ I’d picked up from a bargain bin somewhere.

Aspiring artist

Toddler T went off to bed and J Boy spent the time playing a lovely game of ‘pirates hiding treasure’ on his own in the playroom. This gave me the chance to get a bit of housework done which was fantastic.

After lunch I was a bit tired, (it’s quite exhausting sometimes incubating 3 human beings), so we all sat down and watched a DVD together.

Brotherly love – so cute!

Once that was over we made scones for afternoon tea.

Toddler T only has one thing on his mind – consumption! (Can you tell he’s teething?)

We had a game of giant snakes and ladders – made more complex by Toddler T constantly running through the game disturbing the markers. There was a disturbing moment when the toddler chucked the die behind the fridge. The crisis was averted by finding another one, only to be faced with a new catastrophe when J Boy had to slide down his first snake. By the end of the game he still didn’t like it, but was displaying admirable sportsmanship when he encountered all his serpent nemesis.

The Accountant had a meeting and was getting home after the boys bedtime, so I’d chosen an easy meal of vegies and frozen fish/fish fingers. Luckily I got it all cooked before a long series of power surges started, ending in a black-out. Of course this was met by great excitement, in the boys eyes it was the perfect way to end the day. We had a lovely candlelit dinner. The news of no bath was also embraced joyfully. (We get our water from our tank, and the pump is electric.) Thank goodness we had an indoor day and they weren’t particularly dirty! Bedtime was a no fuss affair, maybe the extra darkness encouraged sleep to come quickly.

Today has been a busy day also, matching games, playdough, colouring-in, play with cousins and lots of imaginative play. But there has been a lot more tears and disagreements, so yesterday is still holding position of best day of the week!

Isn’t it lovely when such a simple day is such a delight? We didn’t do anything extraordinary. The house wasn’t in pristine condition at the end. We played with the toys they already had, we kept busy and just enjoyed spending time together. What constitutes a good day for you?

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Pantry Purge

The Accountant has been a bit frustrated with the state of the pantry. I’m not as worried, I mean sure, it could be neater, but I can mostly find everything – except tea bags, I’m not a tea or coffee drinker and I always lose tea bags and coffee in my pantry. It can really be an embarrasing quirk.

Since it really seemed to be bothering The Accountant, I started to have a shuffle through it and realised that I really do need to have a pantry purge – I’ve found nuts dating back to 2008. Yikes.

Being an Accountant’s wife, it’s important to be thrifty. I tend to buy pantry items when they are on special. If you keep an eye on when things are getting close to finished, and keep on eye on the shelves, you normally don’t have to pay full price. This is normally a great money saving tactic. Unless you forget to use it. Then it’s quite the opposite. Hopefully The Accountant doesn’t notice the packets in the bin at the moment.

I took a photo of the pantry, but I’ve decided that it’s better shown as a before and after. No need to horrify you until there’s a happy ending!

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Not even remotely close

One of the endearing things The Accountant does each morning is unpack the dishwasher and either do a quick wash up or put away dishes washed the night before. I appreciate his efforts very much. (Especially since I hate those chores.)

One morning he yelled out to me, “Why did you put the television remote in the dishwasher?”

I still can’t understand why I got the blame when the other occupant of the house was a two year old boy.

I was innocent. Honest.

Number 4 button still doesn’t work very well anymore, but it really is remarkable what can survive a dishwasher.

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