Chaos at Henry's

Henry phoned yesterday afternoon and was mightily upset because on Monday I'd left a note for Walter and not one for him.
And so I listened to his all-over-the-place rant whilst surfing t.v channels. He ended by saying he would leave the choice of scrubbing brush up to me:(
He also asked if I'd iron his silly frilly white shirt today on account of him attending a Masonic do on Saturday.

The rooms were like I'd never been there.
The kids room was so utterly depressing that I wondered if her mother had ever asked her to put anything in its rightful place. The kid has not been taught well.

The living room wasn't like I'd left it on Monday...
Books, (ok, I approve) were on the mantel piece alongside dvd's, ashtrays and the remains of last night's Chinese takeaway. What on earth was I do to with 15 Prawn crackers?
A beer bottle was in the grate alongside shredded newspapers and a partly peeled orange. Thankfully there weren't any signs of excessive sexual activity. That was to come...

Kitchen.
Oh my God.
How it breaks my heart.
I never know quite where to start in the kitchen but today was a corker. Cartons of congealed sweet and sour sauce were on the toaster, vodka bottles stood idly by the washing up liquid and the left out butter had all but melted.
His dining table was strewn with letters, fruit pips, demands, holiday brochures, a belt, three mugs, ashtrays, broken torch, spanners and velvet bow tie.
But I swept it all aside in a matter of minutes and went upstairs...

Walter's room was ok.
A few smelly shoes under the bed.
Two photos of a family nature (people of various sizes and ages sitting round a table) propped up against his mirror.
And a box of 'men's intimate items' rested against a library book of naval Battles.
A lad's room.
So I dashed away with my duster making sure I didn't interfere too much with his valiant attempt to make his tiny room a home from home.

I left a note for Henry urging him to replenish his store cupboard.
I left a note for Walter saying I'd ironed his rather gorgeous black shirt.

Then I came home.
Home to fish paste sandwiches, attentive puss and order.