If this was in the military I'd be shouting "Hooah" right now...

For the past 70 million years I have had the mop and bucket sat in the kitchen. It looks at me with a tenderness as I wander past it, a real longing in the way it's tousled mop fibres point at me.

I have, so far, ignored it and it's wanton ways. No mop and bucket is going to attract me so easily, I say to myself as I hurry out of the kitchen. I'm not that submissive when it comes to 'kitchen fun'..

But as my awesome husband had an early nap this afternoon and LaLa and Doodles were ransacking Subway for it's cheeky french bread and multiple meat offerings - I found myself all on my lonesome. I wandered into the culinary heart of the home and got cornered by some cillit bang and the hot water tap who were voicing their concerns over visitation rights with the mop. Who am I to deny their pleasure???

So folks, I mopped. Hooah. The end.