The human female, as I have oft noted, is not the most diligent of housekeepers. Though she is the granddaughter of Della the Ruthless Tidier and the daughter of Marie Antoinette (yes, really) Who Actually Dusts, she would much rather read or write, or fall asleep during critical moments of televised dramas and then whine, “I don’t remember any of this,” during the following week’s “previously on X” intro.
In fact, she often fantasizes about moving into a brand new house, just so she doesn’t have to clean the old one.
I could make that happen.
If you don’t quit your griping, woman, you are going to come home some day and find I’ve sold it right out from under you. You and your dusty tchotchkes will be out on the lawn.
Note: This is not the human female’s actual house. It’s not even on the same street. Hers is smaller, older, and not worth anything near that much. And her lawn does not look that nice. Please do not not toilet-paper the home of the good denizens of the house in the photo just because you find the human female preternaturally annoying.