Master of the Bleeding Obvious has a busy weekend as was evidenced by the pile of shoes that had accumulated just inside the back door (the selection included shool shoes, a pair of docs, a set of heels and a few ballet flats-for those who are interested in that sort of thing). By Sunday night I was well and truly tired of tripping over them every time I came inside and suggested she might like to put the mess away or feel my wrath.
This threat was met with a deadpan: "They're not mess, they're an art installation."
Nice comeback.
The shoes were removed nonetheless.
