Then there’s the kitchen. You pull out a mixing bowl and suddenly it’s a cascade of plastic lids and mystery containers. “Where does this lid go?” you ask yourself, holding up a transparent disc that fits absolutely nothing in your house.
It’s the same feeling you get when you find that spare key to a lock that doesn’t exist anymore. You keep it, just in case. Because what if you one day buy a lock specifically for that key? Classic Worcester Park logic.
Clean Up Park
Don’t Forget the Windows
Ah, the windows. The sun, now higher in the sky, reveals every fingerprint, every dog nose smudge, every dried splash of tea. It’s like your house has been living under a filter of ‘gentle grime’ for the winter.
You spray, you wipe, you squint. And then a double-decker bus from Epsom rumbles past and instantly redistributes the dust. You sigh. But you know, looking through that one clean patch, you can see the park kids playing, and it feels worth it.
