the adventures of one expat mama in the land down under
Saturday, 4 July 2009
A woman ought to be able to walk barefoot through her own effing house. A house she regularly vacuums, I might add. A woman ought to be able to run downstairs in the semi-darkness to collect stuffed animals for her young sons without fear of squishing her heal squarely on top of a nasty, slimy slug. I don't care who you are, or what part of the world you live in--that ain't right.