Posted in Personal life

Give Me A Wetwipe and I Will Clean the World

wetwipes of Thailand

I am not renowned for the quality of my housework. Until recently, I could blame my laxity on having a full-time job while also raising a family, but as I gave up the job in February and my family consists of just the one husband and child,that excuse doesn’t pull the same punch these days.

Since drawing the rheumatoid arthritis card a few years ago, I have in any case had to be economic with the scrubbing brush, as my hands can’t take the strain. (Well, it was a welcome excuse, to be honest.)

I’ve been frightened of vacuum cleaners since the age of about 2. One of my earliest memories is hiding from the hoover in horror. (It’s called zuigerphobia, as you ask.) Fortunately the recent trend for laminate flooring and my subsequent elimination of carpet in my house mitigated in the favour of floor hygiene.

But now I’ve discovered the joy of household wetwipes, the dust and germs are starting to lose their battle in my home.

Of course, as a modern mother, I got through a crate or two of baby wipes when my daughter was smaller. How did our parents ever manage without them? When I was a teenager and the environmental debate about disposable nappies was starting up, I cut out a cartoon from the newspaper that showed a lady carrying around her baby in a bucket, saying “On balance it seemed the best solution”. It seemed like a perfectly good idea to me. But baby wipes stopped being a regular feature in my shopping trolley some time ago.

Then when I had to give notice to my cleaning ladies when I left the job that paid their fee, I started to linger a little longer in the cleaning products aisle at the supermarket. There I discovered a fascinating range of wetwipes for the home. Polish-impregnated wipes to do away with grubby yellow dusters and icky polishing cloths, window wipes, kitchen counter wipes, bathroom wipes, shower wipes, and now even flushable toilet wipes. I trialled them in our camper van, where space is at a premium and their compact packaging was a distinct advantage. Within ten minutes, I had the whole interior shiny new.

I’m ignoring my inkling that this could all be a manufacturing scam. Are all of the wipes actually exactly the same, just with a slightly different perfume added to put you off the scent (ho ho) and a different plastic wrapper? I’m not prepared to test drive the flushable toilet wipes on my leather sofas to check this out.

Having just enjoyed cleaning my bathroom with, yes, the bathroom wipes, I plan to get the polishy ones out in a minute for my desktop, once I’ve finished this piece. Then perhaps I’ll head for the Welsh dresser in the kitchen. I’m on a roll here.

Give me the right wetwipe and I could clean up the world. Global warming wetwipe, anyone? Pollution polishing cloth? Anti-terrorist tissues? Go on, Cillit Bang, I’m sure you could do it if you put your minds to it.


English author of warm, witty cosy mystery novels including the popular Sophie Sayers Village Mysteries and the Gemma Lamb/St Bride's School series. Novels published by Boldwood Books, all other books by Hawkesbury Press. Represented by Ethan Ellenberg Literary Agents. Founder and director of the Hawkesbury Upton Literature Festival. Course tutor for Jericho Writers. UK Ambassador for the Alliance of Independent Authors. Lives and writes in her Victorian cottage in the heart of the beautiful Cotswold countryside.

2 thoughts on “Give Me A Wetwipe and I Will Clean the World

  1. I am longing for a cleaning lady – but I need better excuses…other then a family visit (which gets some mialage) – cat, dog, spiders and bills. I wish there were wipes that would do the bills without all that arithmatic…and make those narrow envelopes vanish!

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