He’d probably put white tile floors in my breakfast room with acres of graying grout.
Reasons I think my flooring is of the devil:
1.Â He specializes in things that look pretty on an initial walkthrough but in the end will eat away at the fiber of your soul, one blob of crusty jam at a time.
2.Â They say he likes it hot.Â Â It would be just like him to torment me with a frigid slab of freeze that turns our feet to solid ice every morning asÂ we eatÂ our Eggos.
3.Â Dirty, nasty, sick and wrong are his favorite things.Â
Imagine a world that was impossible to clean, a world where you could spot a breadcrumb from 30 paces, a world where Magoo dumps all his food overboard to signal that he’s finished dining.Â This is my world.Â The grout gets greyer daily but somehow the tile around and beneath the filth seems to grow brighter and whiter, making the play-doh dust stand out decisively.
Personally, I think God would have chosen Brazilian hard woods.
On another note, Michelle from Scribbit is holding a writing contest you should think about submitting something to.Â She also did an interview this week featuring yours truly in which I said nothing for about an hour and thenÂ she compiled it into somthing worth reading.Â Check her out.