Uurgh.

2015-03-30, 9:37 p.m.
Hating everyone and everything right now.

Lets start with the least-hated and work our way up, shall we?

Treacle has gone to Spain. After promising me she would tidy her room before she went I was a bit surprised to find she hadn’t opened her curtains when I went in to put some laundry on her bed. Crossing the room was tricky in the dark, I certainly didn’t remember the carpet having *quite* that mountainous a pattern on it. Curtains open and OMIFUCKINGOD. Pigsty. In fact, pigs were hanging about on the landing, snorting “well, I’M not going in there!” to each other. She comes back from Spain tomorrow, when I will kill her. And then I will bring her back to life so she can tidy her room.

Jooj is an adult, obvs. She goes to work sometimes (always providing someone will drive her to the station, natch, as its like “soooooooo far” – she forgets how many times I did that walk, with a wheely trolley of school books, at 6 in the morning, when I first started working at Grapetree) and she can vote and, if she wanted to, could get married and/or join the army. So she is clearly mature enough to know that ‘please could you tidy up your bedroom’ is the sort of thing one adult (ie the one that OWNS THE HOUSE) would say to another (ie the one who lives there RENT FREE). One of the reasons Jooj needs to tidy her bedroom is so that her BF can stay in there when he comes over, and not sleep on my sofa, stinking up my sitting room with a combo of gym socks and Lynx (that’s Axe, for overseas readers). You might think it odd that a bedroom could be so untidy that one person could sleep in it, but not two – but then you have reckoned without a daughter SO slovenly that she would rather push all the crap that is on her bed over to one side and sleep on one half of the bed rather than have her boyfriend sleep in the bed with her.

At the moment, she is working on ANOTHER cosplay costume as clearly this is more important than having a habitable space to call her own. When I tackled her on this mismatch of necessity, the eye-rolling and whining would have been a credit to a person a full six or seven years her junior.

Urgh, my kids are gross. Anyone who has been to my house will know I will never win Queen of Houseproud – a bit of ‘lived in’ mess is always fine with me and there are far better uses of time than disinfecting skirting boards but FORFUCKSAKE, there’s a limit, girls.

Its just as well theyre too big to smack as Im feeling like a full on Goodfellas style beating is in order at the moment.

Just as a calming influence, here’s a picture of David Beckham. In his pants.

dbp photo dbp_zpshhcntnzj.jpg

L is absolutely doing my fucking HEAD INNNNNNNNNNN.
I’ll write about that later.

S
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