My Red Dusting Shoes

By, Nan Claire Falkner

I am a slug, and have never been good at housework.  Our home was clean enough to keep us healthy and messy enough for us to have fun.  The hall closet was full of junk.

Opening the door, I saw the old clock my grandfather had always kept running.  Remembering the soothing tick tock and hourly chimes at night I smiled.

There’s my red dusting shoes.  No wonder the house is so dirty!

“Maybe I’ll clean today?  Dad will faint!” . . . “Halleluiah, Done!”

Later, Dad came home, turned around, walked out saying:

“Sorry Ma’am, I must be in the wrong house!”



3 thoughts on “My Red Dusting Shoes

  1. Dear Nan,

    The best way to get my house cleaned is to tell my husband company’s coming. He springs into action with vacuum in one hand and dust rag in the other. It’s a sight to behold. Cute story.



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