Monday, 18 October 2010

Must move out, must move out, must move out.

Whenever I move back into my family home after a week away Cat and Flat sitting, there is always a period of re-adjustment. During this time, I will invariably be treated like a 15 year old who clearly has only one purpose in life: to bring clutter and chaos to the kitchen draining board.

My failure to dry and put away the pans from last nights dinner didn't escape notice. It initiated an immediate flurry of activity upon the parent's return from their day out; a collective clattering, huffing and puffing which drew me away from Channel Five's clunky screening of Superbad and into the kitchen to see what all the din was about. A joint chorus of "you could have at least put everything away, etc etc" commenced.

I sighed, argued, may have used the words "kitchen Nazis", ignored their refusal of help. It was as if the three saucepans had been caught racing around the kitchen lighting fireworks and kicking the dogs, not simply waiting - silently, washed, dry - ready to be squashed into their designated cupboard before bed.

This morning, however, explanations for this overreaction were scattered all around the house. It was plain to see that Not Putting The Pans Away was less about me creating an unsightly kitchen, and more because the priorities in this house have changed over the course of this year. Observe the clues that lay around the house:

1. Unidentified Baked Goods in the fridge.

Not potatoes. Not doughnuts. Not bread. At a guess, some form of Scottish dumpling from the depths of a recently excavated freezer. Edible, but exactly how is unknown. Possibility of dog toy not discounted.

2. Knackered Dogs
Labradors who fail to raise an eye / tail when you a) walk into the main eating area and b) don't move when you get food out of fridge means they are either deceased, or have been walked to within an inch of their lives for the best half of the morning. Loud snores indicate the latter.
3. Strategically Placed To-Do List

Sorry! Can't stop! No time, no time. So much to do. What with the coffee and the cottage cheese and the dog food to buy, and all within the confines of Monday, there truly is a blisteringly busy day ahead.

4. A Packed Diary

Nails, hair, massage, bank, eat, walk dogs, buy cottage cheese, eat crackers, moan at daughter for not clearing up kitchen, rest.

It's official: my mother is now completely, utterly and wholeheartedly retired.

And this 26 year old girl really, really, really needs to move out.


Elaine said...

Do it. NOW!

Please Don't Eat With Your Mouth Open said...

Haha...if only it was that simple. Small matter of deposits and London rent to pay, should probably start my job first ;)

The Unbearable Banishment said...

Admit it. You're jealous. I sure am! Just look at her itinerary. It's how I aspire to live one day.

And you're right. You don't just snap your fingers and move out. Hopefully, boyfriend can help facilitate this?

Kirses said...

Ah yes these would be the reasons I'm tearing my hair out after 2 days with my parents. I should be more tolerant, I only see the once every two years. It's just that when I put the book I'm reading for seconds and they ask me to take it to my room I feel highly highly annoyed.

Ellie said...

I love your dogs.

Please Don't Eat With Your Mouth Open said...

Unbearable - I am a little bit jealous, although not sure if I'm quite ready to retire to a life of dog walking just yet. And yep, the Boyfriend is also champing at the bit to move out (with me, hurrah). It's just a waiting game. No use in moving out just in time for the most expensive part of the year.

Kirses - That sounds very familiar indeed. Nothing is allowed to stay sitting on the side in this house for longer than 5 minutes at a push.

Ellie - If you were to meet them, I guarantee that once they'd woken up, they'd love you too. And possibly try and sit on your lap.

theperpetualspiral said...

Parental retirement seems like a good reason to move out.

I mean, how dare you leave saucepans out, how dare you indeed...

soupemes said...

My mother is semi-retired (runs the house as a B&B during summer season) and I can't bear her even when I go to visit. She's always swanning off to the hairdressers or taking the dogs for a walk along the beach at Weymouth or going shopping at some outlet village near Wincanton (or some other country town).

And then she says she has no time or money.


But then again, my mother is of the particularly cantankerous and irritating variety and we don't have a good relationship anyway...

I think all parents get on their kids' tits.

Good luck with getting your finances in order and moving out - soon!

soupemes said...

And I agree with Perp.

You're lucky not to have gotten 30 lashes for your saucepan crime.

Please Don't Eat With Your Mouth Open said...

Ha! I got the 'no time' line from my mum this morning. Yes, I replied, I can see from the calendar that you have a busy week ahead...what with the massages, and hair appointments.

What I do or don't do only matters because I'm under her roof. When I was, you know, off round the world for 8 months...a weekly phone call seemed to do the trick.


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