The Bog Brush Boogie

I've just had another fun morning of housework, washing and ironing.  I jest, but I'm definitely more inclined towards cleaning than most.  I have an obsessive compulsion to hoover and I enjoy the cleaning aisle in Woolworths.  It smells nice.  Anyway, I was up to my usual cleaning routine, which involves me turning my music up nice and loud so that I can sing and dance my way through the chores.  I can sing and dance so much better when I'm on my own and in the bathroom.  Cleaning the toilet, woo, singing to GaGa, woo, dancing with the bog brush, woo woo!  Yeah!  Every now and then I ponder the idea that someone might walk in on me and catch me mid strut.  Oh the shame.  But of course this has happened to me before.  Anyone as prone to disappearing into their own imagination as me is bound to get caught out once in a while.  Through my childhood I think it was mostly El Kenco who stumbled across my embarrassing dancing/singing/antics.  Then she joined in and the "hail tesco man" dance was invented.  When you're swaying to Michael Jackson's "Earth Song" in front of the window with arms waving and the tesco man arrives, what else does it look like?  I do like to drift off into my own world and this often gives others the opportunity to sneak up on me.  Blow drying my hair, El Kenco came into my room and I screamed, thinking there was an intruder, before promptly aiming my hairdryer at my poor sister like a gun.  Yes, I was going to ward off a burglar with my hairdryer.  Ahem.  Mystical Roo is always making me jump.  Sometimes I think he just materialises.  I'll be in the shower and he'll poke his head round the door to say hello.  There's a delay in my scream where I register there is no threat but still, I scream.  Poor Mystical Roo.  No wonder he doesn't trust me crossing the road on my own.