Today I scrubbed out a Students' Bog.
I did. I really did.
I peered into that dark, putrid place that was the Lavatory, shrugged on my Mantel of Courage (marigolds) and got to work.
Now, I have cleaned lots of things in my life.
Bums. Noses. Fridges. Baths. Loos. Clothes. Ovens. Houses. The Toaster. (don't ask)
But Never, EVER, have I hucked out the loathsome depths of a Students' House Toilet Bowl.
Bugger me, it was horrible.
Grim. I don't think I could see any of the enamel.
And into that Watery Hell Hole I had to stick my Marigolded Arms and Scrub.
Scrape away at the sides. Brush frantically round the Bend.
I even... (are you still here? how lovely!) cleaned the wall of hand prints where the dear little male students clearly Leaned Heavily when having a Pee.
So Dear! So Appealing!
Nice cup of tea and a biscuit?
Sod that for a game of marbles.
No. Then I cleaned out the Other One.
Yes. Two of the Bastards.
What, apart from being Pathetic Fool who lets Eldest Son walk all over her Pinafore'd Frame?
Well, yes. Obviously. Derr.
But ALSO 'actually' because Eldest Son is moving out of his Student House and off to London for a couple of months before returning to Oxford in September. And so I offer(!) to Help.
Admittedly, Eldest Son went up and down two flights of stairs all morning, heaving more and more Stuff out to the car and looking increasingly hot and shiny with each journey. I began to be quite Thankful that all I had to do was rid Toilet Bowls of Torrid Filth and then flush Said Filth away.
But, Oh! Blogger Mates, I made those loos Sparkle. The enamel started to show through the grime! It was White!! And when I finally put in the Toilet Duck and Flushed. The Joy! The Achievement! The Relief! The Exclamation Marks!
Had to show Eldest Son, who was most impressed.
Refrained from sticking his head down it and flushing, but managed to convey, without using four letter words, that I Never Ever was going to do that again.
'Really?' he asked, looking quite surprised.
'Really.' I said. Firmly.
'Perhaps you might like to come and clean out my Pants Drawer?' I asked him in all seriousness.
'Mum!' he answered. ' That's gross.'
No, dear heart. 'Gross' is a Student Toilet Bowl.
My pants drawer is the Bloody Garden of Eden.
And with that, I closed the clean, wiped down door, swiped across the recently Freshened Lock and took the liberty of Going in the newly cleaned Toilet Bowl.
And very nice it was too.