The combination of grey rain, the weekend’s adrenaline boomerang, the call to order of all committees in my head, has left me blue, well worse, purple really.
So isn’t it lucky I can go home and take a healthy plunge into a brimming bath full of rich gobs of Ivory suds. It’s the purity you know–that washes the blues away.
Soapy pure Ivory people are happy people with sunrise complexions, straight white teeth and an ah-shucks ebullience that tweaks your ear like an army of elementary school teachers.
And the removal of dust and grime is the bonus. That and looking and acting like Andy Griffith.
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