Wednesday, 3 August 2016

Say hello, wave goodbye...

I like to pick my moments very carefully in this house, when making decisions about cleaning the children's rooms.  At the moment, three are abroad, and one is in Devon (which might as well be abroad, it takes so bloody long to get there).  Having hired a JCB, dump truck and also invested in some industrial strength bin bags, I set to it yesterday, happy in the knowledge that none of them was going to be physically able to stop me from clearing their rooms.

I had given them all fair warning...they knew that I would be 'going in' as it were, and if they hadn't decided what they wanted to keep, then I would...

Now my kids' rooms tell you a lot about each of them. 

Son number two's bedroom, which was the first to get the full Mumpty treatment yesterday is like a snapshot of his entire life.  He is a complete hoarder of 'stuff', and it's possible to find muscle building powder (I don't know why he bothers with this, he will forever have the physique of a racing snake) nestled next to a game of Racing Snails which was his favourite when he was younger.  There was always money involved in this game which probably explained why he liked it so much.  I have to be very careful what I throw away as everything has a memory for him - sensitive little soul...

Daughter number one's bedroom is basically a walk in wardrobe.  Clothes hang from every available hook, hanger and corners of wardrobes, and what can't be hung is laid out on the bed.  When this is full, she resorts to that old favourite...the floor.  She has the added problem that this room, being downstairs, is my favourite place for 'sticking things that I'll find a home for later'.  So as well as her complete Autumn/Winter 2016/7 collection, she has to contend with odd dried flower displays which I don't like any more, pictures which I've tired of, and all of son number two's coats which won't fit in his wardrobe anymore.  This room is on my list later today.  To be honest, once my stuff is removed from her room, tidying it should be relatively straightforward.  Of course, I haven't looked under her bed yet - this has been hiding unwanted stuff for ten years, so could be interesting.

Son number one's bedroom is just somewhere to sleep.  His bed is always surrounded by carrier bags and various sports holdalls, and when he wakes up and leaves, he simply takes it all with him to the next bed he's got lined up.  There's nothing in there to say he's been there at all, other than the odd rugby shirt staple gunned to the wall (don't you just love them) and fourteen empty glasses on the window sill.    Every now and again, something will appear on the bedroom walls, something that stamps ownership on the room.  The last time this happened, it was photographs of his rugby team in the nude.  Do you know, there are only so many excuses you can come up with as to why you keep needing to come into the bedroom..

Daughter number two's bedroom is the one I always save till last as I need to steel myself to go over the threshold.  She has her whole life in that room, in various cases, IKEA bags and holdalls, none of which ever seem to be unpacked.  I am still waiting for her to empty her cases from university, let alone the bags from the month in Thailand, and the recent weekend in Bedford.  She obviously has duplicates of everything so unpacking is not a requirement.  She also is a bit of a hoarder.  Unlike son number two who keeps things for sentimental reasons, she just keeps them because she can't be bothered to walk the four paces to the bin.  Going into her bathroom yesterday morning, I removed nine empty shampoo and conditioner bottles (all crammed in the shower tidy) and three empty toilet rolls.  She has to share her room with Percy and Reg, so I do tend to make some allowances, but to be honest, apart from a shredded Economics book, it's all down to her.

So the next few days will be a challenge.  Mainly because this is a parting of the ways for the children and me.  As they leave home over the next few weeks, heading back to university or work, they will take with them all the interesting and exciting parts of their lives that they want with them, leaving the husband and me with all the empty shampoo bottles, bags and remnants of their childhoods. 

As long as son number two leaves the Racing Snails behind, we'll be fine...
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