Saturday, August 02, 2008

Saturdays Suck



If you're looking for excitement . . move along now!

I don't like Saturdays. They're the sixth day of work (although generally the household denies housework as work at all) and apart from a couple of glorious hours late in the afternoon, they are full of thankless chores and grind. I get up pretty early, I should write "Diary of an Insomniac" and have the obligatory two cups of tea (white and one if I drop into yours) and one cup of coffee whilst browsing the blogs. In Spring, Autumn and Summer, I have coffee and a long chat with my sister but the current kiddy soccer season means they're out and about on Saturday mornings while LittleNeph farts around on the field, so I haven't been over for a few weeks now other than midweek to feed the nags.

Occasionally, as was the case this morning, (damn you Notsoanonymous . . I wouldn't have even gone there if you'd called!You know you're my chore avoidance strategy!) I began to tackle that pig-sty that is DrummerBoy's bedroom, (while he pootles around at The Merry Widow's to build a retaining wall as his first 'independent' landscaping job). "Mum . .I work . .I can't be expected to keep everything tidy as well . . " Strange how boys can multi-task on Code of Conduct or when eating a kebab in the car!

First, I pick up the rubbish on the floor, remove the six glasses of water from his windowsill. All filled with varying amounts of water as if he's pinging each with a chopstick and practising his late night rendition of Tubular Bells. Then there are the beer bottle tops that have accumulated. No beer, just the tops. He thinks if he puts the beer bottles in the bin, I won't notice that he's been playing PS3 late at night . . no of course not . . .tell-tale caps . .she won't notice!

Moving right along, time to strip the two quilts he has because he thinks it's cold, pillows and bed sheets . . remake the bed which is no mean feat since he has a cast iron, double bed in a shoebox jammed right up against the window. I'm in a sweat before I get the pillowcases on. Dust the shelves, including the Lego Darth Vader that threatens to fall apart with the slightest tip of the magic duster, wipe the screen and the PS3 and rescue the plethora of CD's and game DVD's that have fallen down the back of the shelving unit - I don't even want to know what they do in that bed to unstack a pile of CDs . . . Then pick up the three empty cans of deodorant scattered under the bed (there's somewhere else I avoid like the plague - under the bed *shudder*). I then 'enjoy' a bout of 25 consecutive sneezles thanks to the accumulation of lint and crap floating up my schnoz. Almost done but I have yet to put away last week's washing! Yep, it's still sitting on his chair all dishevelled and mooshed. Then match a gozillion pairs of odd sock before getting so frustrated I just shove 'em all in the little 'itty bin that is the receptacle for lost socks in the hope that one day their partner might turn up. They rarely do. Where on earth do they go? Finally, vacuum the teensy bit of exposed carpet of landscaper's mud and grit which fills half the Dyson canister! There, it looks tidy and smells sweet . . . for now! Seriously, it took me an hour and half to get a 12 x 12 foot room looking like it was livable.

36 single socks Where the hell are their partners?

Then the bottles. God we drink a lot . . well we have a mass of recyclables at the end of the week. Mainly due again to my penchant for Chardy and DrummerBoy's love of cheap beer in small bottles . . combine them with the paper waste and it's three trips to the recycle bin before I can set foot in the laundry.

Ah the laundry . . the bain of my weekend. I have a feeling my tax cheque will be spent entirely on a new washing machine since the spin cycle is dodgy and clothes are sopping wet half the time unless I carefully raise and lower the pump hose as so that it syphons. I literally stand there for the entire spin cycle raising and lowering the hose in order for the water to drain! I have washing elbow! I thought with ClareBear away, my washing would halve . . it hasn't, it's tripled thanks to Drummerboy being particularly clean and going through three sets of clothes each day and five bath towels a week. Anyone would think he'd spent his formative years living in a hotel with room service . . I really must teach him how to use the washing machine, if only to appreciate the time consuming attention it receives on Saturday mornings!

Then it's a bun fight for the washing line as Stressany seems to have washed every item of clothing and linen that they own next door. Pegs are at a premium and she's purloined three of the four sections of the hills hoist! (they never buy pegs?*@!!) There are RULES, two sections each! She on the other hand, hangs out her washing and spends the next 5 hours of the day sitting at the kitchen table completing her Sudoku! At least it's sunny and windy so things dry in an hour or so. I don't iron, I can't be bothered so I iron as I go but I have become expert in the art of fabric origami and can fold so neatly that ironing is rarely required . . I know . . . it's a gift.

Then there's the rest of the Saturday workout,some stretches to start with a damp duster or the magic job, a bit of bending and stretching in the bathroom as I manage to scour the sink with a bucket of Gumption and bend over a bath (which we never use) full of pubes and watch them spiral merrily down the drain. Then, a few lunges with the Dyson and some side-sways with a mop. Who needs a gym! Not to mention the 20 metre walk to the washing line and bins! It's a workout alright.

So here I am at5:56pm . . just about to hit the shower before heading up to the supermarket and his nibs has slipped in there before me, left his chin shavings in my schparkly sink and of course a wet towell all over his BRAND NEW LINEN! Cheeky monkey . . .ah well . . the house is clean, the washing done, dinner organised, (home alone so green tiger prawns with vegetarian ravioli and rocket). The leaves are blown, pool backwashed, (although I still have two ducks who refuse to vacate the premises and continue to poo on the coping stones despite last week'd Karcher and chlorination), the pot plants watered. For the next few hours . . .bliss, with little more than a farting dog and a girly DVD to entertain me! Then it will all start over again!

Such is my Saturday . . exciting init?

Edit: I am slightly prone to exaggeration!

20 comments:

Thriftcriminal said...

Bloody hell, that keeps you busy. We is a lazy household, PTCC deals with washing, I mostly deal with the dishwasher and a good chunk of cooking. The cleaner who comes on Fridays deals with the rest. The kids focus on leaving their toys in as many places as possible.

ashleigh said...

You need to stop coddling the kid.

My kids are 12 and 14 and they keep their own rooms tidy. Takes a damn lot of nagging :)

Baino said...

Ah Thrifty . . can't afford a cleaner. Besides, its only a small place with a MASSIVE chunk of land. Dishwasher? What's that? Had one but then when mine broke I thought "ah just a couple of years until we sell" (stupid woman that I am) been without one for 4 years now!

Ashleigh, nah he's an angel mostly. I only venture into the 'dark space' now and then. He cooks a couple of nights a week, puts the sulo bins out, maintains the pool, mows the lawn (all three acres of it) and he's my Mr fixit... frankly I care little about the state of his room as long as that's where the mess stays. Nagging? I am a PhD in nagging!

Anonymous said...

Everyday is the same here. Only me to soil the sheets.

I too had a dishwasher. Alas he died! He told me I would miss him one day! I do, and not just for the dish washing! lol.

Unknown said...

Come and spend Saturday with me, it's much more fun!

Seriarsely... DrummerBoy, time to get your act together. Baino, you could always try the approach I adopted with my stepdaughter. Just shut the door and don't go near. When things started crawling around in her room - including her socks - she soon got the idea!

Anonymous said...

What a very domesticated and industrious Saturday. I went into the centre and took a peep at the Belfast Gay Pride Parade (some rather adorable TVs) and then got my neighbour to countersign my application for the brand-new over-60s free public transport pass. Now J and I are going to have some wine and just for a laugh watch some reruns of Dad's Army. I presume it gets shown in Oz?

Baino said...

GM: Ahh . . I wouldn't mind a dishwasher like that, did you overwork him?
AV I rarely tackle his room. Tell the truth it's more the damn washing machine and the outside work that takes the time. DB pulls his weight don't you worry ..he's just not as fastidious as me. Plus he's in the throes of working full time and a start up business. He's a good boy really.

Not for long Nick, I need to relax and not be such a clean freak! Congrats on the pass . .we have one here that allows you to travel on buses, ferries and trains for $1 (and a heap of other discounts) very handy indeed! "Dad's Army" gawd that goes back a bit! Sunday's are totally different!

laughingwolf said...

innit ALL wimmin's work, baino? :O lol

...just back home again, battered and bruised for a fall, thursday, but nada broken....

Baino said...

Tis true Wuffa . .wimminz workz never done! Sorry about the fall . . .good that nothing's broken. Next time fish from a boat!

Anonymous said...

*insert inane related anecdote here*

Baino said...

Notsoanonymous - pfft!

Thriftcriminal said...

Ah, we only have someone to come round for 2 hours, otherwise I'd go postal due to the mess the rest of them leave around the place.

Megan said...

Ayup. Laundry is not one of my offspring's chores, but it will be soon, now that he has decided he likes to be clean.

I hate socks.

I hate chores too but I love the feeling I have when they are done. Hope you are enjoying your evening!

Excellent Adventures said...

Ah mother. You shouldn't still be picking up after a 21 year old, tell him to get into gear and do all this stuff! You're too soft on him, however I do agree that one's room is their domain and maybe you should just leave that corner of the house to him? You never have to go in it, just make sure he doesn't spread throughout other rooms in the house

Baino said...

Ah Megan, much as I don't miss pegging those 'waste of a peg' g-strings on the line . . landscapers are dirty blokes . . . I wouldn't trust him to do the washing, he'd put the muddies in with the whites.

Clare is this a new perspective on tidiness that you've gained from your Au Pair experience? Last I remember I couldn't see the floor in your room! And judging by last week's Skype chat via webcam . . nothing much has changed! (Actually it was part of my rodent reduction plan! GAH, He had mice in his room last month. It's not a bedroom, it's an ecosystem!

Excellent Adventures said...

*anal* (to be said in an under-the-breath-cough)

Kath Lockett said...

I hear ya re the washing. Only three of us in our place yet there's seven loads of washing to do on a Saturday, then hanging, drying, fluffing, folding, putting away, ironing....

Then a hot shower, GnT and chocolate in front of the telly.

Anonymous said...

...the sock partners are at my house cos I have at least 36 odd ones too! Thommo

Anonymous said...

...the sock partners are at my house cos I have at least 36 odd ones too! Thommo

Anonymous said...

...sorry for repeating myself - not very good at this:)