I whispered at a mop today.
I’ll give you a minute to just soak that in (accidental pun and all).
I’m trying to think of how the context of the situation might save me; but no matter how I spin it, I get caught up on the “whispered” part. This means I chose to communicate at a low decibel specifically for the benefit of the mop, and the mop alone.
I turned and realized a strange women had overheard me say, “I regretted not buying you, since the moment I didn’t buy you.”
As she ushered her child away, I realized my behavior may have been a bit over the top.—Before you judge, it was refillable spray mop with microfibers.
I have to admit, this type of situation really does make one take stock of their life though.When did I become such a domestic? And when did I become prone to whispering? All things to good things to consider…. another day.