My Chemico romance

As I mentioned earlier in the week, I will be moving flat soon.  This has meant that I've had to cast a rather more critical eye around "the pad" than usual and though I'm a generally pretty clean, lady-like lady, there are a few areas where four years' worth of accumulated grime has built up...and now I have to deal to it.

Oh yes, there will be cleaning in my future but I almost don't care because I've rediscovered the bestest cleaning product ever.  It's pink.  It's pastey.  It comes in a tub.  It's Chemico.

The moment I opened the pink tub and took a whiff of the miraculous contents I was immediately whisked back to Linwood Intermediate.  It was the end of term and prior to stacking our desks on one side of the classroom we had to clean off all the biro-scrawled graffitti on them.  We were given a cloth, an icecream container half-filled with water, and a mysterious chemically smelling pink substance. Adolescent declarations of "Bon Jovi 4 eva" and crude depictions of male appendages really didn't stand a chance against the gritty pink onslaught.

Fast forward twenty years and Chemico is working its magic at Whare Tamaira.  The kitchen cupboard doors which had a patina of cooking grime from curries and pastas past.  Clean.  The spag-bol splattered wall next to the stove.  Clean.  The bath.  Clean.  I know what you're going to say. I'm starting to sound a bit like that crazed "Easy Off Bam" guy (sidebar - what kind of drugs is that guy on and how quickly can we get it banned? Because seriously, that dude is Gene Wilder freaky).

I'm even starting to love the smell of Chemico in the morning.  It smells like victory.  The aroma also strongly reminds me of the girls' toilets at school, so much so that I immediately find myself thinking of that scrunchy brown toilet "paper" and the illicit and ill-advised application of Maybelline blue eyeliner, whenever I inhale deeply (which I've taken to doing...often).

As I mentioned earlier in the week, I will be moving flat soon.  This has meant that I've had to cast a rather more critical eye around "the pad" than usual and though I'm a generally pretty clean, lady-like lady, there are a few areas where four years' worth of accumulated grime has built up...and now I have to deal to it.

Oh yes, there will be cleaning in my future but I almost don't care because I've rediscovered the bestest cleaning product ever.  It's pink.  It's pastey.  It comes in a tub.  It's Chemico.

The moment I opened the pink tub and took a whiff of the miraculous contents I was immediately whisked back to Linwood Intermediate.  It was the end of term and prior to stacking our desks on one side of the classroom we had to clean off all the biro-scrawled graffitti on them.  We were given a cloth, an icecream container half-filled with water, and a mysterious chemically smelling pink substance. Adolescent declarations of "Bon Jovi 4 eva" and crude depictions of male appendages really didn't stand a chance against the gritty pink onslaught.

Fast forward twenty years and Chemico is working its magic at Whare Tamaira.  The kitchen cupboard doors which had a patina of cooking grime from curries and pastas past.  Clean.  The spag-bol splattered wall next to the stove.  Clean.  The bath.  Clean.  I know what you're going to say. I'm starting to sound a bit like that crazed "Easy Off Bam" guy (sidebar - what kind of drugs is that guy on and how quickly can we get it banned? Because seriously, that dude is Gene Wilder freaky).

I'm even starting to love the smell of Chemico in the morning.  It smells like victory.  The aroma also strongly reminds me of the girls' toilets at school, so much so that I immediately find myself thinking of that scrunchy brown toilet "paper" and the illicit and ill-advised application of Maybelline blue eyeliner, whenever I inhale deeply (which I've taken to doing...often).

Really there's no ill that Chemico can't fix.  Quite likely Victoria Beckham is exfoliating her face with it right now.

Though the tub says that the contents are "Fully Biodegradable", the unusual smell and name "Chemico" do make me worry that I might be infertile now.  I mean, there's not a single ingredient listed anywhere on it.  What in heaven's name could this stuff be made of?  Ground up Barbie Dreamhouses?

It's a bit like that other strangely compelling cleaning product of days of yore, Swarfega.  It was green and viscous and could make grease magically disappear.  Swarfega would have to be the Incredible Hulk of hand cleansers.  Even the name sounds manly.  And much like Chemico you can easily imagine that it was back-engineered from some kind of alien technology.  It's not of this Earth I tells ya.

But I care not.  I love my little pink tub o' wonder.  I really think we could have a very bright future together (and since I probably won't be having children now, it's good that I have a little companionship).

Do you remember the scent of Chemico?  What do you think it might be made of?  Is Swarfega made from aliens?  Would you trust Easy Off Bam guy to babysit your kids?  Silly answers only below.