More Room. Just MORE Mess.

I've decided moving into a bigger house with more room; more people - will probably kill me.

Living a "Brady Bunch" life was never on my agenda.  It still isn't.  I'm not keen on it.  Don't like it.

I am counting down the hours until the kid leaves school and shoo's off to a new life.  The girl won't be far behind him.  Of course she is currently saving to go to Europe and with a UK passport, she can stay and work over there for a while.  Leaving me in a life of peace.

But none of that is going to happen overnight.  The kid doesn't actually do any home work and his idiot father is living in some delusional world where when the kid slinks off to his room with the Squeeze's laptop for the night - he is actually doing homework!  Did homework for hours!!!  Look at what I did!  I don't have trouble with him doing his homework!  

No... Of course he doesn't.  Well not until I print out the history of his laptop's browser that showed the kids homework consisted of 5 hours of internet surfing movies, TV shows and other 15 yo brainless crap.  Yeah.  Look what you did.  Fool.

So in the wash up, it is with heavy heart that I realise this kid won't finish school for at least another 23 years.

And this house is too damned big for me to get all the way around it every day; cleaning up the array of crap that is dropped.

The Squeeze has dragged his bevy of bedside bullshit with us.  More room is not put to use by folding clothes and putting them away.  It wouldn't matter if we had a bedroom the size of the MCG.  He would still drop... Move on... Drop.  Then ask me the next day "have you seen this...."  Common sense = put crap away and you will always be able to find it.

  

The kid came packed in typical style. Mummy sent him off to live with dad clasping a black garbage bag with the bare minimum of reeking clothes.

So what does a clean freak do in a house full of pigs..?

Kills herself working. 

In two weeks I'm off to the coast for a week.   On my own.   No mess.   Just me.