Yesterday was a funny old day. My 'day of rest' turned into my 'day of cleaning the rest of the house which has not been looked at for at least six months'. This is because Lady H (she with the pneumatic duster and an eye for a cobweb) is only allowed into several rooms in my house when she comes here. These are the ones which the husband and I use, along with the rooms which a passing visitor might get a glimpse of. The children's rooms have always been a 'no go' area, as I am a firm believer that I only pay Lady H to do light cleaning. Excavation work and decontamination are not on her job description.
So I mentioned briefly yesterday that daughter number one had finally done an Elvis and left the building, heading off to her first home of her own. She has been sleeping in daughter number two's bedroom with the dogs for the last six months, so you imagine that some level of cleansing was necessary before I could pass the room back to daughter number two who is home this coming weekend. (Are you keeping up?)
To be honest it wasn't too bad, but there was a fairly large pile of clothes and shoes which had failed to make it to the new flat on the first run by the husband. There was also £2.21, not bad for a morning's work. So that bedroom was now ready for the return of its original occupant. Mind you, the fuzzy squatters are still in there, so there may be some 'discussion' as to who sleeps where.
Son number one's bedroom was next, as he also is back for the weekend. This wasn't too bad, but just as I was shutting the door on his room, I noticed that all four pillows had gone. This is something which has happened on a regular basis, and over the last four years, I have had to buy sixteen pillows at least. I have visions of my pillows being abandoned at pokey student digs, on floors which have seen more life that David Attenborough. Never mind, four more were ordered yesterday which should arrive before his return.
Then it was downstairs to daughter number one's original bedroom, which has been used as a dumping ground for both girls' shoes. This room needs cleaning because my sister in law, Mrs W and her beau, Mr G, are also coming here for the weekend.
So my house now looks lovely. For about four days by my calculation. Its beauty will peak around 11.30 on Thursday after Lady H leaves. It will then plummet into a pit of filth as four oversized children run rampage over the weekend. I expect you're wondering what I have done to deserve this return of the prodigal four? Well it's the husband's birthday, and a small party is planned, and as you know any offer of free food and drink works every time in enticing them back into the fold.
I already know what the highlight of the weekend is going to be (other than when they all go again). The four of them are taking the husband shopping for his birthday present on Saturday morning. Spurred on by my various activities, he has decided to join a gym, and has asked for a pair of 'training shoes' (his words, not mine). I shan't be going. The thought of him sitting in Sports Direct surrounded by trainers, four children and a twelve year old assistant is not a pretty one.
Tempers will flare...