Domestic Failings. (I’m fine with it though.)

How You Know You Lack Domestic Skills:

 

  • Your remove your shoes at a friend’s house and they register genuine surprise that you have a matching pair of socks on.
  • Your 4 year old daughter sees vegetables being sieved so rarely that she congratulates you on “catching carrots in your net.”
  • In a sleepy state, you bend down to pick up a rogue child’s sock using tissue paper because you assumed one of the cats had vomited a fur ball.
  • You listen to your colleagues moaning about their husband’s domestic bad habits and keep firmly shtum because you know you’re guilty of all of them.
  • You reached the age of 35 without realising you should drain mincemeat when making a  bolognaise. (I know! Who’d have thought, right?)
  • You have reached the age of 35 without ever cooking a roast.
  • Your husband will not allow you to iron his work shirts.
  • You improvise a “picnic” tea on the living room floor more evenings than is proper because the kitchen table is permanently covered in paints/art/craft stuff.
  • You lose the key finder your husband bought you for Christmas.
  • You have also lost the sign that says “Please excuse the mess – we’re busy making memories” that you thought might in some way justify the state of the house.
  • Your daughter announces to her little friend that comes to play “Mummy says we can’t go in her room –  it’s really messy.”

Ah well . . . I can’t be great at everything, dammit!

 

“At worst, a house unkept cannot be so distressing as a life unlived.” —Rose Macaulay

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