“How had she gotten so behind on everything?” wondered Birdie. Everywhere she looked, there was something that needed doing. Judging from the pile of dirty laundry next to her washer, it was a miracle that either she or Gerald had anything clean to wear. There were dishes to load in the dishwasher, kitchen counters needed wiping, floors were begging to be swept and mopped, the living room wanted a good straightening, there were papers to file, mail to go through, bills to pay. The dust on the furniture was getting so thick, she expected it might fight back if she tried to remove it. She had apparently neglected things. The chalkboard in the entry hall still said “Merry Christmas”. Yeah, she had neglected things. If she were a visitor and had to stay the night, she would definitely be uncomfortable. It was that old adage of, “If this is the dirt you can see, imagine all the dirt you can’t see.”
Gerald was always teasing about getting himself a big, strong Russian woman to do things like carrying him up the stairs and putting him to bed when he was too exhausted to rouse himself off the couch. Like you could order one from Amazon. Who knew? Maybe you could. Not such a bad idea if she would cook and clean. Maybe even give massages? “I need to go on-line,” thought Birdie. After all, Gerald does have a birthday coming up.
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