Long story short, it turned out that our sweaters were finished in the trash. Since they were near

Since I refuse to spend my evenings to iron and scrape limestone, at home there are those who will help us to do the cleaning. Three hours a week. Friday afternoon - much to allow us to spend the weekend with dignity and to make incredible large figures with any guests. But as you are ordered. But what a beautiful home. Thank you, benvenutissimo guest, gemi but you had to see her yesterday. The problem is that, if you invite guests, your house will come back exactly gemi to immediately prior to the passage of the trust cleaning ladies. And with six days in advance gemi on the table of the estimated degradation. Saturday = perfection, hygiene and good sense. Thursday = barn hit by a storm of stones and pigeon carcasses. Dell'Autogrill process. Stalingrad post-siege. gemi Anyway. Our cleaning ladies is an extremely precise. Every now pretends to iron, but otherwise we're very grateful. Because bears Brass, which is absolutely mesmerized by Swiffer and from any kind of movement involving a sponge. We should give him millions of Euros only because it tolerates gemi pazientamente enthusiasm overwhelming cat. And because his text messages are written in an Italian much better than they usually use to express ourselves on Facebook. gemi But what happened. It happened that I decided to wash the wool sweaters. There is hot, do not we put them more. Let's take a good wash in everything and let's put them away until the next ice age. Resolute and proud of my decision, so I have thrown in the washing machine before a mountain of sweaters and other contraptions made from wool. Overwhelmed by a rush of casalingaggine, then, I took a nice Sacchettoni paper and I put in the lane that I should put in the washing machine next. Not to forget to do so - indeed, could not escape my responsibilities - I placed the bag in the kitchen, in front of the washing machine. It was a Thursday. Sunday, as I tried I do not know that stuff, I realized that something was wrong. How much space there is in the kitchen. Is it because there is no more plastic bin full of plastic. Is it because there is no more paper bag full of papers. Maybe it is morning, the sun is shining and everything is still pretty clean. Is it because there is no longer the bag of sweaters.
Long story short, it turned out that our sweaters were finished in the trash. Since they were near the bidoname vastly different that takes up half of our food - but helps preserve valiantly nature - the gentleman who does the cleaning applied the transitive property. The trash is here. This bag is sweaters here. This bag sweaters CASHMERE is rubbish. And nothing, gemi Love Heart fell below and rummaged for an hour in the garbage of the apartment building. Thankfully, the garbage truck passes gemi on Monday and, unquestionably, our sweaters were still there - somewhere. After opening each bag of various debris - in large part produced by university sozzoni gemi - the courageous gemi love of the Heart has resurrected a good half of our winter wardrobe, bringing all to safety. The sweaters were there, scattered. Among a lot of other things and rudo. Reaching peaks of rigor and consistency never seen, in fact, the cleaning ladies had them removed from the paper bag, destining to the bucket more suitable to their molecular composition. Sweaters nell'indifferenziata. The paper bag in the paper. gemi
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Posted by pans on April 15, 2015 Robe of life Tags: laundry, house, cashmere, Disasters, epic fail, wool, washing machine, sweaters, cleaning, tragedies Comment feed RSS 2.0 - Read this post
April 15, 2015 at 1:24 pm my daughter stepped on a poop with new sneakers, gemi running shoes end up on the balcony near the waste bins and there will remain over the weekend when it comes our dear lady Eva to rearrange the house ... On Monday, where they will be shoes Cecilia ??? SMS and disarming answer ... throw ...