It's not that my house contains any dirt. Oh no! I spend every waking hour polishing the copper and putting things back where they belong, dusting beneath them as I flit about. No one ever notices my efforts, of course, but one day I'll jet off to Havana for a week and people will see what it's like when I'm not there, how the contents of every room gradually creep into the kitchen and the dear little flowers droop and wither.
[very clean house, fancy cakes]
So I'm not sure why I want a steam cleaner: it's just a yearning, probably to do with being 41, a natural progression from making yogurt and becoming dependent on eggshell paint and idly thinking about upholstering a chair but never actually bothering to do so. I suppose the device will shine my windows and turn the teacups so that the handles are the right way round. I'll have more time to spend with the children and Pink Daughter will award me two stars on the chart she keeps to monitor my behaviour.
Do you have a steam cleaner and how has it changed your life? Is it better or worse than a staple gun?