After a rather uneventful week the weekend managed to be eventful in both a bad and a good way. Let me set the scene, I live ina commune, a shared house. Well actually two houses with me and my brood in one and Babybro, Stressany and their brood in the other. Mine is joined to Babybro's by an entertainment area, poolroom and wet bar and BBQ area so this area is used by both families as is the garden and swimming pool. I have to walk past their house to reach the washing line and the sulo bins so without prying, it's quite easy to tell what's going on inside. Privacy isn't a big thing between us.
With the shared areas, the rule is leave things as you find them, rack up the pool table, put your cue in the rack, clear your rubbish, return any matresses and doonas to their respective homes, turn off the fridge if there's no alcohol in it. Around the pool, put the brolly down,remove towels and stuff from the pool enclosure etc. Not a big ask really. Simple one would think.
Since Babybro and Stressany have gone to watch the Ashes in Brisbane, their house has become a backpackers without rules. All week a selection of misfits has been yahooing, swearing and drinking copious amounts of alcohol while the cats are away so to speak. Even mum and dad's bed has been violated by drunken blokes dossing down for the night. How do I know? As I said, have to walk past their bedroom to hang out the washing and put out the rubbish and it's been a dishevelled mess for 4 days.
Anyway, JimmyD - naughty nephew, decided to have a bender on Saturday night and bring home a bevy of blokes and a couple of chicky babes at 5.00am on Sunday morning. More yahooing and swearing and copious amounts of JimBeam cans being tossed willy nilly onto the garden, tree branches bing snapped with much hilarity and the XBox cranked up to wake the dead I was awoken from my spurious slumber, got dressed and proceeded to chastise the bastards in no uncertain terms. Not many will be willing to return methinks.
Only the day before I'd filled 2 sulo bins full of beer and Bean refuse and cleared kilos of pistachio shells from the pool room floor, re-racked the balls and hung up the cues and whilst wheeling the bins back to their designated waiting spot could smell the inside of the house - did someone die in there or had they just overdoesed on anchovies?
Just wait until I get hold of that dickhead he will wreak the wrath of Baino and for anyone that knows me, this is not a pleasant experience. I did have my satisfaction later that day berated JimmyD in no uncertain terms until he apologised profusely for being so drunk that he'd neglected to realise he'd invited 15 people back to party at 5.00am and it would never happen again (yeah right, that angelic smile and big brown eyes don't work on me kiddo!). I did secure assurances that the area will be pristine by this afternoon and the incident will never be repeated - well until the next time!
And speaking of dicks - why do boys have to pee on your plants . . haven't they ever seen a toilet.
So, as you can imagine, furious, tired and thoroughly down on the younger generation it was nice to have a long lunch by the sea with Ros and the Engineer. Old schoolfriends who's romantic tryst has lasted since they were 18 have a beautifully renovated (well more rebuilt) home in Avalon. I see them maybe every 2 years but it's like no time has passed and we gasbag long into the evening. Had seafood and fetta pizza with a noice Cape Mentele Cab Sav and lovely nibbly bits left over from the Engineer's 50th. We were joined by Mos and Harry the dog in what was a fabulous and relaxing afternoon. Thanks kiddies I needed it.
Babybro . . come back!