Smells like teen spirit...

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The Tasmanian Devil (aka the whirlwind which is son number two) and Goldilocks left again yesterday afternoon, eager to get back to the cheap beer and food of the North.  This trip was unlike any other mid university visit from the other three children, in that there was no washing.  A miracle of mammoth proportions for which I am ever grateful.  The two of them had been to Oxford for the day and had bought me a small present to say thank you for putting them up so beautifully.

It was a lovely gift, a patchouli reed diffuser, and it smelt gorgeous.  Placing it reverently above the fireplace, I felt very grateful to have such a thoughtful son (although it was Goldilock's idea I would imagine) and I sniffed it appreciatively.

And then a thought hit me...

Does my house smell?  I mean, you have to ask yourself whether I've gone nose blind to the aromas of wet dog and building site husband.  It's a bit like buying deodorant for a colleague who is knocking them dead (literally) at five paces.  Or like gifting a man with a nose hair trimmer....

Or maybe I'm just being a tad paranoid, and the two of them just liked the smell and thought the bottle looked pretty, which it did.  Either way, I am still grateful, and as they are now both gone, it probably doesn't matter what my house smells like.  

Having whipped the heavy bins of the Home Counties into some semblance of order yesterday (I love my job just too much) I met my lovely sister in law for a 'quick coffee'.  To date, these 'quick coffees' have never lasted less than two hours, and yesterday was no different.  In fact, we gassed on for so long, that the staff were cleaning up around us, and I suggested to Mrs H that it might be an idea to move on before one of them said to us, 'Can you lift your feet' while she wielded the vacuum.

As we walked back to our cars, we were talking about how our prospective husbands would ask 'what we'd been talking about?' when we got home. We both agreed that our answers would be much the same...

'Oh nothing really'.

 Us girls are really good at that...

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