15: Why Hinch?

Why on this planet did I  bother with all that hinching over the weekend. I spent hours shifting the congealed layers of grease from my oven and microwave, not to mention all the washing-up, hoovering and mopping.

I was rewarded with a flooded kitchen and an angry hubby, after bits if disintegrated Brillo pad somehow got trapped in the u-bend of the sink’s drainage system, and in the gubbings of our washing-machine. And, no I didn’t try to wash the Brillo pads – I really don’t know how they ended up with the micro-fibre cloths in the wash! These thing happen; and then, this morning, this happened (prepare yourself):


Not sure which particular elf decided to crack eggs, grate cheese and raid the medical supplies in the middle of night – but someone did!

And, even worse:


Seems that our resident pumpkin decided to have an early-morning feast!

And Hubby’s definitely to blame for this mess:


Appears he emptied the cupboards out, following the flood from the sink and dishwasher!

And all of the cleaning supplies I bought on recommendation from Mrs Hinch?


And can I even start all over again with putting the mess right? No! Nothing can be moved until Hubby has got to the bottom of the washing machine flood. Personally, then I think that all the little midnight elves and angry goblin hubbies* can go swimming in the floodwaters. I’m abandoning ship.

The day job was never intended to be replaced with the role of perpetual housewife! Mrs Hinch, take back all those bottles of Zoflora!

Time to get out of this place!

Copyright owned by Jay Cool, May 2019

P.S. Just received an update from the angry goblin – the washing machine is still churning out floodwaters! I’m going …!

Please also read: Getting Out of The Day Job 14: MicrowaveGetting Out of the Day Job 13: 1000 likes!, and Getting Out of The Day Job 12: Clean Oven.

And, if you really insist, read my review of Mrs Hinch’s book: Hinch Yourself Happy.

The following post by one of my followers is also well-worth a read: Autism as a Superpower.

Published by The Silly-Savvy Salopian

Freelance writer and descendant of the cave dweller and outlaw, Humphrey Kynaston. Banished from Shropshire for my eccentricity, I have made my home in Suffolk. I write poetry, short stories, travel journals, comedy gig reviews and non-fiction articles. My wish is to write my way back into the heart of my birth land. All writing commissions (and free holidays in Shropshire!) considered.

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