The Spiders lived in a small cosy cottage. Mrs Spider liked to have her house all nice and shiny. Everything had to be sparkling clean. Mr Spider, on the other hand, was a proper couch potato. He was as lazy as a slug, sitting in front of the telly all day long. Mrs Spider was desperate. How could she make her husband help her out a bit and start taking care of the household?
On Saturday afternoon, just like every other day, Mr Spider was watching a football match.
“Nancy, fetch me the biscuits, will you, dear? I can’t miss the game, they’re just about to score,” said Mr Spider.
“Oh, fetch it yourself, Spencer. You do nothing all day but watch the telly. Would it kill you to lend me a hand from time to time? I’m sick and tired of the constant cooking, washing, ironing, dusting, hoovering, and dishwashing,” snapped Mrs Spider.
“Oh, like I didn’t change the lightbulb that one time,” he retorted.
“That was like half a year ago,” said Mrs Spider, shaking her head.
Mr Spider felt trapped because his wife was right. Still, he wanted to get her off his back and watch the game. “Anyway, I would never do any of it as well as you do. I’d never fold the sheets as nicely as you or cook such delicious meals.”
Nancy Spider was flattered for a moment. However, she knew he had only said it so that she would leave him alone. Tired and sad, she sat down in the kitchen and started crying.
Suddenly she heard a soft, squeaky voice: “Don’t worry, Nancy, we’re here to help you. We’ll teach your husband to do the chores.”
“Who said that? Where are you?” asked surprised Mrs Spider.
“…
