The Reality of Mother’s Day

So what did happen today? Well, it turns out that today went pretty much as expected. I awoke rather shocked that I’d managed to sleep past my body’s designated time for me. Until I realised the clocks had gone forward and I was up earlier than the school alarm. I decided to take myself into Joel’s room – his present to me was staying at a friends overnight – but apparently when the sun rises, it targets its rays to shine directly and forcefully into his bedroom so all I could see was dust and dirt (saying I’d thoroughly cleaned the house yesterday was perhaps an over-exaggeration). And just as I’d managed to pretend there was no school uniform lying in a crumpled mess on the floor or no scattering of various headphones around the room, I reached for my kindle with the aim of reading until the two remaining sprogs saw fit to wake up. Just at that moment, Frankie bounded in, jumped on me, sneezed in my face and pawed me until I agreed to open the back door. So no sleep, a distinct lack of cleanliness and an inappropriate interruption. Happy Mother’s Day to me.

Things did get better though. The presents arrived. When I said in my previous post that I’d never really got on with chocolate, I forgot about Ferrero Rocher. As someone who once thought her linguistic skills would be worthy enough to work in a foreign embassy (only people of a certain age will recall the corny advert of the Eighties and only those of above average intelligence will understand my comment!), it’s very apt that these are the only chocolates I can tolerate – or wolf down speedily and continuously in fear the daughter will steal some! Secondly, I am sometimes friends with alcohol; I can be fickle at times so the raspberry vodka was much appreciated (ask me again when a couple of glasses make me lose a day of my life). And good old Joel must have heard my demand for perfume – or Ian took him to the perfume shop yesterday – so all in all, I’m a very spoilt girl. But it doesn’t end there. I have had an alternative Mother’s Day experience.

When it comes to cleaning, I am not my mother’s daughter. Both of my childhood homes were a shrine to Mr Muscle. My mam worked full time but somehow the house was always spotless. And these were the days before Dyson, multi surface sprays and Scentsy (quick plug there 😜). Those were the days of Fairy, bleach and elbow grease. The lubrication of my arm joints has always been minimal so any energy saving device has always been warmly welcomed.

So as of today, I can hoover, power clean a variety of surfaces and disinfect the entire house with ease. And hopefully within the hour, so that I can get back to my Ferrero Rocher and vodka!

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