It Wasn’t Me!

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I think we must have sprites living in our house. Every time I go to the loo, there’s either no paper left or just one solitary piece clinging onto the cardboard tube for dear life. Whenever I ask who used the last piece I’m always met with the words, “It wasn’t me.” It’s the same with so many things: who drank the last of the milk, who wee’d all over the floor, who forgot to flush the loo, who failed to feed the cat, who ate all the chocolate (probably me but let’s skirt over that), who left the tap running and flooded the house? And whenever I ask for help tidying away all the day’s clutter, it seems that no-one got anything out. Evidently things just magically made their way out of bedrooms and downstairs. I’m so glad I have angelic children who never do anything wrong but for the life of me I don’t know what to do about these sprites. Sometimes I think it would be a good idea to instal CCTV cameras in all the rooms and then I can catch them in the act but knowing my luck the camera would probably stop working just at the very moment that the misdemeanour happened.

My biggest hope is that some day I can actually go a whole 24 hours without having to nag my children to carry out the simplest of tasks. How difficult is it really to hang up one coat, put away one pair of shoes, remember where you’ve left your PE kit, homework, money, brain? I think I probably have greater problems as I only have sons and they definitely develop a certain tunnel vision at around age 8 or 9 when they seem totally incapable of finding anything (the whole hunter gatherer vision thing) and also can only do one thing at a time except for homework which magically they seem able to do while watching TV, playing on a laptop, eating and texting at the same time.How does that work? Gone are the days when I could make a game out of tidying up and when dusting and vacuuming were exciting things to do-my boys’ favourite toy was a cleaning trolley for heaven’s sake! Now it’s very much my job; they don’t seem to see the mess and seem convinced that they would be depriving me of one of the greatest pleasures in life should they empty the dishwasher or take out the bins. Perhaps they too are convinced that we have sprites in the house who magically appear to do all these jobs; I knew it was a mistake to read them “The Elves and the Shoemaker” so much when they were little.

Oh well, unless someone can come up with a brilliant way of bringing about a radical change in their attitude I guess I will just have to resign myself to the role of chief cook and bottle washer for the foreseeable future. I’ll have to wait patiently until they have their own homes and then take great pleasure in being one of those visitors who allow themselves to be waited on hand and foot. And how about, if I have grandchildren, buying them lots of arts and crafts sets with glitter galore. They do say revenge is a dish best served cold, can’t wait!

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