Domestic revelations of a domestic revolutionary.

Should your bathroom smell strongly and inexplicably of pee even after you've swabbed it down repeatedly, check the shower curtain. Why? I couldn't say. Pee smell that misses the scrutiny of the husband with an unworking sniffer and a little boy who smells of dirt and sweat and dog and pencil lead? Could be the shower curtain. Washing it (in hot, with very little detergent, just like those cloth diapers years ago) could well do the trick.

Should your husband and child come home from school to find you washing dishes and sweeping the floor in your underpants and a torso long sports bra, smile your best smile. Smile your best smile especially if this wasn't intended as a sexy saran wrap come-on, as you are a portly middle aged but reasonably attractive and good natured woman. Smile your best smile as you say to your husband, "Well, I guess you didn't expect to come in to find your wife in her underpants and a bra." Smile bigger when your husband adds, "And a necklace!" Place your open palmed hand over your chest as if saying "I swan!" just as you've seen your mother do for decades whenever she is tickled or moved or flirty with your father. You may wish to disclose that you are in such a state merely because not only did you burn the supper (aloo bhindi) you'd intended for take away for a friend  because you were on the phone with your brother and highly distracted, but you'd also spilled a considerable amount of aforesaid burned supper (laden with tumeric) onto your clothing and had actually intended to change but had again gotten distracted by the dirty floor needing attention.

And so it goes. If you are especially lucky, your sweet husband will take you out to supper by moving a few funds around and hold your hand across the table and then build a bonfire for your child and a friend upon coming home.