There I am in the paper #41

Another of my articles from The Irish Examiner’s Feelgood. Hope it gives you a bit of a laugh.

I’m hot and bothered. Within the next couple of hours there’s a gentleman calling to fix our less than windproof windows.

Yes, the horror is real. I am in the midst of a major clean up as Mr Windows will be entering every room in my house.

If I’m not quick he’ll view my child’s bedroom, where wardrobes are empty as every stitch she owns is on the floor. He’ll see the bathroom, post early morning rush, the bomb blitzed kitchen photo credit: clean up time! via photopin (license)and then this poor misfortune will enter our utility room, where he’ll struggle to even locate the window.

Initially I’d believed the house was relatively visitor ready, just the occasional dead fly to be dusted from window sills and a small tidy of each room. I set to work, even humming for a time as I gathered a multitude of things that had found their way into rooms and never found their way out. Shoes, discarded socks (don’t ask me), school books, plates and cups, hair bobbles and blankets to name but a few. As my arms filled I realised I was in trouble, my preferred method of tidying in a mad hurry was not going to work today.

What is this method you wonder? Β It’s quite simple, I race around last minute, gathering every bit of clutter I can and dump it in a room the visitor will not enter. Of course today this was of no use, as windows man would be in every room!

Don’t get me wrong we don’t exactly live in a tip but it’s fair to say that if yer man married me hoping he’d bagged himself a ‘house wife’ his dreams have been shattered and the house is screaming for a divorce.

I remember one particularly memorable clean up. We were having a party for yer man. It was mid Summer and we’d planned to return from our holidays a day early to organise it. Unfortunately, that was the very year the sun shone from morning to night and we couldn’t bear to leave Costa West Cork early.

We arrived home the morning of the party and once in the door remembered the plan to do a major tidy on our return. Β The family en masse adopted the ‘gather and dump’ method, using my bedroom. As time whizzed by we blitzed the utility room of all things domestic and filled it with all things party, found matching towels for the bathroom and lit scented candles in the hall. We’d to make some very difficult decisions. Take the fridge for example, food vs beer and wine? Food lost and was duly distributed about the house. Two days post successful party I avoided disaster when I discovered broccoli and cauliflower stowed in the tumble dryer.

As I tidy today I’m learning a lot about myself.

I’m easily distracted…my laptop and facebook keep shouting at me.

I’m not half as popular as I imagine myself to be, as despite checking my phone every two minutes I’ve yet to receive a text.

I get dehydrated very easily which means I must stop regularly for tea breaks.

I can’t enjoy tea without a biscuit.

I have heated debates with people on the radio.

I’m not as good at recycling when I’m rushing as I am in everyday life.

Two hours of haphazard tidying later the house isn’t perfect but it’s not a mess either.

“What time is it, surely Mr Windows will be here shortly?”

I wait all day, growling menacingly at anyone who leaves anything out of place. As yer man appears home I point out the tidiness of our home and rage at keeping it clean all day for a man who never showed up.

“Oh sorry. He texted to say he’ll be here tomorrow.”

photo credit: clean up time! via photopin (license)

London Irish Graduate Network

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