gin-nurtered time waster.
©Elsie Anderton,
The Babylon Lane Tales 2012
The Babylon Tales
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the almost award winning blog from Manchester
The irony of being invited to a Dirt Devil promotion is not lost on me. Happen it's not irony at all - maybe the people from Dirt Devil were staging a slattern intervention. Or worse, they were concerned for the health and safety of my small child. After all not many children can survive with a mother who'd rather eat her own feet than clean the non-doorside of the bed. I make no apologies for my predilection for dusting my mantle with the cuff of my blouse, filing my paperwork in the oven, using the chickens to clean the kitchen floor and counting skittles as one of my five-a-day: it's all been said before.
Given that the promotion involved a child-ccentric trip to the Lowry theatre, it is highly plausible that Dirt Devil people were trying to shame me into cleaning my house; while checking that my child isn't suffering from some Dickensian dust based disease. So I went: to prove them wrong.
While they baffled me with vacuum cleaner science, Skippy was entertained with craft based adventures. The day culminated in watching David Walliams' Mr Stink. A brilliant play with a lead character that made even the slovenly me, look pristine.
On our exit from the theatre, we were handed a Dirt Devil handheld device. Now I won't lie to you, this vacuum has lingered in its box in the boot of my car for two months. It's been taunting me, this afternoon I've capitulated and had a little go.
In true Babylon Lane style, I've put its abilities to the test with the help of my usual glamourous assistants (Skippy and the hens: Margot, Dolly, Barbara and Mrs Clegg). I fear change and don't set much store by new fangled technology. We've tested this vacuum rigourously against our usual efficient (if slightly grim) kitchen floor cleaning method (remember here). That's right folks, you've just watched the Great British Chicken-off. And it breaks my heart that the chickens didn't win. Tsk. Dirt Devil, the hoover that's better than a choover.
Go here for more confusingly efficient cleaning type products. If that's just a little too much for you, like it is me, go here for my autumnal shoe lusts from Mary Portas (courtesy of Clarks).
Now if you'll excuse me, I feel I must lie down with a very large gin.
gin-nurtered time waster.
©Elsie Anderton,
The Babylon Lane Tales 2012
The Babylon Tales
Promote your Page too
gin-nurtered time waster.
©Elsie Anderton,
The Babylon Lane Tales 2012
The Babylon Tales
Promote your Page too
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