I swear I'm not making this up. I got home a little bit ago to find Maria holding half a mop. It seems she mopped so hard today, the mop's body snapped in half. Remember now...she's the same gal that mopped so hard in the boys bathroom, she fell down. Damn. I don't even know what to think about this. Armed with a mop, she is a menace. A danger to herself and others. Mopping with a deadly weapon. Orange cones: Caution/ Cuidado: Senora mopping.
If you could see her, you'd swear I was lying. She is skinny and medium height but give her a mop, and she becomes a deadly weapon, a cleaning hazard waiting to happen. She can tear up brooms, too, but then today's brooms are worthless anyway, but a mop? That's a skill set I'm not sure what to do with exactly.
Sidebar. Back to brooms for a second....Where are the blind guys that used to come door to door selling light bulbs and brooms....and the Fuller Brush man? Remember him? I loved those guys and they always had great cleaning utensils. I guess Walmart put those guys out of bidness' and not for the better I might add.
On my run to Tom Thumb to get a replacement mop, I ran into a old friend from my Belclaire days. He lived in the block before ours and is still a good friend of my brothers to this day. When he rounded the check out line, I stuck my mop between my legs (a la broom) and started riding, pretending like the wind was blowing.
No wonder no one will go to the store with me anymore. They are just no fun.