Today on my way home from work I stopped and bought a mop, bucket, and bottle of Pine Sol to get my kitchen and bathroom floors sparkling and clean. The mop is one of those things I keep intending to pick up and not getting around to, but after living here for ten months the linoleum is probably due for some attention.
The time I cleaned it with multisurface wipes on my hands and knees because I didn’t have a mop and bucket probably doesn’t count, since I couldn’t get the black streaks from my Sketchers off.
Anyway, when I got home I started putting my purchases away and discovered that my mop not only comes with instructions (woefully incomplete instructions; there are four steps telling me how to wet and wring the mop, but nothing directing me to actually touch it to the floor and engage in the act of mopping), but it has a warning: Keep Out of Reach of Children. Maybe if I had children this would make more sense (maybe I’d also fly to work on a magical unicorn that shoots rainbows out of its ass; both are equally likely), but right now all I can wonder is why I’d want to stop children from maybe cleaning something.
It’s not like I’m saying you should give them a Heather Chandler-style morning wake up cup of liquid drain opener (or Pine Sol, since that also has a number of warnings on it, too) but I cannot fathom any possible situation in which a mop is so dangerous it must be kept out of reach of children.
It’s extremely comforting to know that the bucket carries no such warning.
Dammit. And that was the only reason Bill and I are having children.
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