Two have gone back to school. Full uniform, shiny clean shoes and one bus pass between them.
One of their passes was lost within six hours of arrival. A record, even for us. It is now MY time people, my time to literally shine.
It’s quite a thing trying to keep a small cottage clean with five people living in it constantly.
Slipping standards
I held onto standards for as long as I could, but about two days into lockdown, I let go, and it’s been a little laissez-faire since then.
I like to think of it as a new interior decorating style called something like ‘boho-lived-in-sh*t show-chic’.
Follow me in next weekend’s Home & Garden supplement for more modern-day interior design trends.
Excuses
With the gang once again out of the house Monday to Friday, I have no excuse for living like Stig of the Dump anymore.
Am I delighted by this opportunity or annoyed my convenient excuse of ‘what’s the point’ has been removed?
Time to clean and declutter and remind myself we’re supposed to be amongst the more civilised of species.
Rage cleaning
I have just rage cleaned our kitchen from top to bottom with poor confused Alexa belting out some dubious tunes for me to wipe to.
My kitchen is therefore CLOSED for the next two days. No toast crumbs, no butter covered knives balancing on the sink (swithering over a potential second butty), no half-drunk glasses of squash random OR sticky things on my clean counters.
Staying out shouldn’t be hard for them as they appear to have eaten at least 42 times every single day during the holidays. They should have ample reserves.
Packed lunches
Please be assured, they are away with packed lunches (made by me) so are unlikely to starve in the absence of access to fully stocked cupboards.
I have also written little post it notes to pop into their lunchboxes saying, ‘sorry the rolls are stale, that’s what happens when you don’t reseal the bag’.
Apparently, that wasn’t funny. They’re now frantically typing their 1* reviews to post on Trip Advisor.
Keeping hydrated
Ginormous water bottles have also been refilled and popped into straining rucksacks.
Each time I fill these up, I end up thinking about how I didn’t drink a glass of water my entire childhood.
No fizzy juice allowed in Mary’s house but Ribena as thick as treacle or cartons of warm milk at school play time kept us hydrated.
Bring Your Own Cutlery
Aside from my mild(ish) control freak tendencies, I choose to keep doing their packed lunches for them, even though they’re more than capable, for a few reasons.
I like to convince myself I’m still cool by rocking in the car all the way to ASDA to get crisps for their lunch boxes, but in truth it’s simply to do with forks.
These days, if you want to eat at our house, it’s BYOC (bring your own cutlery).
Heaven only knows if they are losing it, throwing it away or selling it, but I refuse to provide cutlery anymore and pack their lunches with finger food accordingly.
New school
They’ve done rather well considering it’s a giant new school building with completely new time tables.
Middle no longer asks me to wake her at 6.30 so she has enough time for a good cry in the shower.
I’m taking that as a win.  Friday is also now a 1pm finish. Except not really, as the bus was held up in traffic and it took them an absolute age to get home.
Furiously announcing their arrivals with cries of ‘I’m starving’ the minute they walked in, they dumped their rucksacks, and proceeded to swarm through the cupboard like a plague of locusts.
Two stomachs
Nothing was safe. Not even those stale rolls. These kids seemingly have two stomachs.
A ‘meal’ stomach, the size of a pea and the other, a ‘snack’ stomach, which has an infinite amount of space. Like Mary Poppin’s magic bag, this stomach is truly endless.
In short, if anyone needs me, I’ll be dressed in combats, complete with war paint stripes, practising commando rolls, armed with a whisk and a sturdy wooden spoon, right here patrolling MY clean kitchen so they can’t destroy it once.
It is currently a place of beauty even if I must accept it’s almost mirage-esque disappearing potential.
