Is there some bicarbonate of soda secret? Or do I have to go to bloody effing Kmart (there are no corner shops that sell everything here) and persuade some 14 year old to direct me to the iron cleaner shelf not via the obscene mountains of horrid chocolate that the Australians will insist on.
I 'm furious on two counts, this is a lady-territory thing here. If dh has to get his mother iron his one and only pair of semi-formal trousers to wear on the only day of the year he needs to be anything approaching formal, I will be spitting feathers. Do you know what it's like to have to bow out to your MIL to provide an iron for your dh, and she's had her bloody iron since 1966 and it is in prisitne conditions, pristine I tell you.
HELP