There was an old woman who lived in a shoe....

she had so many kids she didn't know what to do.


The kids had become expert un-cleaners and fully expected that one day they would be able to make money from their core talent.


Mother worked hard to tear down their very natures and break their spirits, but she had not prevailed and was at her wits end.

Sure, she liked to clean up after them just as much as the next person, but she also enjoyed clubbing herself silly. (oh, and...not one word of that sentence speaks truth, as IF!)

One day, Mother was doing laundry when she saw that the uncleaners, at their attempt of dispelling any bad media before it got to the father-in-the-shoe, had cleaned the wrong items. It appeared as though the very items she had watched in the washing machine the day before AND subsiquently folded were in there again. Was she having deja vu? NO.

SO she re-watched those items that she pulled out of the perpetually full laundry hamper go round & round, folded them again, then snuck them in a carefully hidden empty stroller box (refer to the short post dated November 2nd)

After 3 days of laundry, the children started noticing how clean their rooms were getting and strangely two of them had the audacity to credit themselves for doing it.

This morning the professional un-cleaners called upon Mother-in-the-shoe to let them know that she needed to buy them more underware. Mother in the shoe got up, went in their room and proceeded to order them different items of interest to pick up (maybe the underware was hidden in a pile?) (this was a fairly un-rushed thing since the professional un-cleaners are also professional un-sleepers and were up at 5 in the morning looking for underware....now I know this is a slight tangent from the story, however, it should be noted that it is highly unusual for anyone to wake up at 5 in the morning and suddenly note that their group of size 16 underware surplus has diminished to ONE size 10 ripped, grey and slightly streak-stained if-ya-know-what-I-mean. Is that what YOU think of at 5 a.m.?)

Mother-in-the-shoe had already anticipated the un-cleaner's noted loss of properly sized tighty whitey's and carefully placed the older grey and slightly streak-stained ones in their place. In the rush of ordering the master un-cleaner around, the little minnion un-cleaners were brought out of their caves of wonder to come to the rescue of the now slightly higher-pitched voice of the master un-cleaner. A minnion un-cleaner noticed that she had no clean socks, another minnion uncleaner noticed there was no shoes. Luckily, Mother-in-the-shoe had already planned a way in which these youngsters could revive their dead articles of clothing by adding other chores, and thus started the morning of the sweat-shop-in-the-shoe.

Un-cleaners went to school...and mother-in-the-shoe went back to bed with a clean, quiet shoe.