Rush Hour Manor

Recently Mr Rush Hour and I have begun to feel like servants to the imperious Miss Rush Hours. Mr Rush Hour multi tasks as the butler, scullery maid and chauffeur whilst I am busy as cook, housekeeper, head gardener and ladies maid.  We find ourselves receiving peremptory commands, often relayed second hand, “Tell Mummy I really don’t like my soup with bits in it“, Eve tells Mr Rush Hour and “I’m not happy with you at all”  Leah tells me when I refuse to fill up the paddling pool (adding pool boy to my list of duties).

They drink their milky bedtime aperitifs whilst we mutter darkly in the kitchen about our below stairs life of drudgery before we are summoned again.

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