Hosting duties

There's been a steady stream of guests visiting the flat lately. This, like everything else, has been a learning curve.

First up, there's the constant supply of fresh milk that has to be bought for the visiting tea drinkers, which neither of us actually are. This is a fun game where every weekend we buy a pint of milk, use a splash of it, then leave it festering in the fridge until the next guests arrive a week later; usually just after it's gone off. I am now toying with the idea of offering whisky shots instead.

Next, there was the slow realisation that having people over no longer means just opening the door and shouting "MUUUUUM, WHATSIT'S HERE". There's preparation to be done. This is how I found myself rushing round the flat like a badger on speed, clutching a cloth and a bottle of Dettol cleaning things at 10am on Sunday morning. Not that I mind cleaning, truth be told I find it quite therapeutic. But there's a time and a place for all that shiz...and it is neither morning, nor Sunday. And as we still don't have a Hoover, the bits of Bombay Mix scattered over the living room floor had to be carefully flicked under the sofa, one by one.

That stuff takes time.

But after all effort comes reward. And this, the last few weekends, has been in the shape of gifts. Namely food. For example, Boyfriend's Auntie, Mother and Sister came into my newly cleaned living room clutching a homemade Victoria sponge cake. My disappointment at the tin not containing the advertised Quality Street chocolates was placated by them taking us out for lunch. Having established that the pub down the road did a nice roast, we led them to the same place the Boyfriend's Dad fed us the week before (just after he'd dropped off a brand new Apple Mac and Ikea desk for it to sit on. Can't complain).

Yesterday, convinced that now I'm not living at home, I must be in need of a good meal, my parents met me on my lunch break. "Pick wherever you want to go! It's your treat" they said. I did as I was told and took them to Jamie's Italian - needs must.

So perhaps there is such thing as a free lunch after all. The question is, who can I invite round next Sunday, and what's the quickest way to get rid of them once I'm fed?