I'm talking about the kitchen drawer. You know - THE kitchen drawer.
It's where all the miscellaneous crap ends up ... you can admit it now - you know exactly what I'm talking about, you slovenly old goat.
Well, here's mine - nothing like airing your dirty laundry to the world, all in the pursuit of cheap entertainment. I have no pride. Go on - have a good nosey.
Every few months I open this sliding embarrassment and just sigh. (Well, obviously, I open it up more frequently than that, but I can usually blank out our awkward relationship and I just ignore it). I do try to keep it tidy and respectable, honest. It just defeats me. Every time.
I rummage in vain for something I just know should be in there. It's a timewarp-vortex-cum-hellhole that steals random items and puts new ones in their place, it allows other items to breed willy-nilly and it refuses to give up a chosen product when asked. And I even ask politely. No, OK, that was a lie. I swear and throw, shuffle and bang, with no respect or consideration for the contents if truth be told.
This strange timewarp-vortex breeds single gloves, blunt scissors and used-up rolls of sticky tape. Dog leads go in, and dog collars come out. Four passports enter and three are released from it's dirty, seedy grip.
Empty spectacle cases, near-empty glue bottles and tiny hairbands inhabit the corners - lurking, lost and forgotten.
A lone lightbulb which lost it's way en route to the light bulb box in one of the other kitchen drawers, waits expectantly at the entrance. I hear it's mournful, lonely cry in the wee small hours. "Why me?" it sobs.
Doggie poo bags galore, ribbons and stickers, little lapel pins and mis-treated but not quite ready for destruction old watches. Children's temporary tattoos and those little but oh-so-useful packets of tissues, which would be so handy if only you had been able to find them when you packed your backpack for that walk - you know, the one when the kids got a nosebleed. Darn - now where did I put them?
Go on - have another good look - I would place a bet that something YOU have mislaid is actually in MY drawer. Just shout and I'll see what I can do!