Grace and Anger

With less than a modicum of grace, I find myself on the listening end of a long-winded siloloquy on the virtues of the Home Help. The Home Help I hired.
Everything but raising the dead is lauded to the Home Help.

Well, we all make our beds. Sleeping in them and complaining is routine around here.

Just a moment while I find my hairshirt.
And adjust the nails.

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