Hello Hoover, I won't waste your winsome wiles, your wonderful ways
The children have charmingly chucked chocolate chunks round the room.
They think they can thwart my threats to thrash them, that I am theatrical.
I’ll say I’m sorry.
I'll plug you in, power you up and push you to the appropriate position
And you, with lungs like luminous lagoons, will lull the living room into lovely litterlessness
You can breathe in bits of broken books, dessicated dollies, hacked Action Men, mashed Meccano, Limp Lego.
It's so gory!
You'll bring order to them all. Your electric inhalation is my eclectic exculpation
Move over Hoover! Let's suck some stuff, Afterwards I'll squeeze your bag. It's the least I can do.
Room clear, kids clean, tea eaten, curtains drawn, fire flaming. then TV
We'll cuddle the kids on the sofa, so far so good. And, wide-eyed, we’ll gaze.
It's Jackanory!
Ah, lovely Hoover, your place has been usurped by a fatbellied Dyson.
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