I didn’t hesitate: I shut the door, heaved the cabinet back up against it, and stood, waiting, my limbs trembling, the bottle twitching in my hand. It was made to be used on stubborn kitchen grime. There was a picture of a shining oven, twinkling with ethereal cleanliness. The label told me that it was the nation’s favorite kitchen cleaner. No fuss, no muss, the slogan read in pink, cheery letters.
