The other day as I arrived at El Rancho Reedo, Spike calls for my help.
There’s a mop lying on their living room carpet (dry). ‘I even read the instructions.’
You never know what mischief they’re up to, so I stood there, looking dumbfounded at the horror of the mop that outsmarted Father. The audacity!
Finally, I said, ‘What exactly is it doing to you?’
‘You’re meant to slide that down from the coupler and twist FOUR TIMES, they’re very specific. You try to slide that down cos I can’t do THAT, never mind twist it.’
The Duchess stood there making ‘hush baby’ sounds at him.
The whole whole I’m thinking, ‘When did mops stop being a yarn wig at the end of a long dowel?’
It was HARD to move the plastic slidey thing at all but true to fact, it wouldn’t go over the mopsy part of the mop.
Cocking my head to the side, ‘Ya think if maybe it were wet the wringing function might work?’
I left them to it. They’d have me hopping every minute if I didn’t let them sort some things.
Mop wringers won’t wring if mop isn’t wet, apparently.