Chores

I feel it's important that my poor slaving-away-in-a-hot-plant husband knows that I have not spend all day flopping about in the pool like a beluga. I did chores. Sweaty, hard, nasty chores.


What's that?
You can see the vacuum is not plugged in?


Ah.
Bugger.

Well, I might as well go back to flopping then.



(It's over 105F/40C. Our AC is crying, so I'm turning it down and go cool off under water. The excessive heat warning runs until 8am tomorrow. Supposedly.)