You wake up bright and early and decide to sneak downstairs to make a milky coffee to bring back to bed while you finish off a charming little story on your Kindle. So you leave your bed as it is, pull on a cosy cardigan and stumble downstairs, to the morning after the night before.
Oh yes. Last night, left to your own devices, you fell into a dead sleep in front of Big Brother and didn’t wake up until after midnight, when in blurry eyed confusion you switched off the solitary lamp in the living room and abandoned the chaos left behind for your snuggly bed. And now here it is: chaos. Two throws scrunched up on one sofa, cushions on the floor, a pile of magazines scattered on a coffee table resplendent with ring marks, towels dried stiff on the radiator, an empty jubbly wrapper on the arm of the sofa and two glasses abandoned on the mantlepiece.
You give up all notion of sneaking back into bed and get to work, letting the cat out of the laundry room and trying to ignore her screechy demands for sustenance while you face the dirty plates still stacked by (not in) the dishwasher and notice that yet again, a family of slugs have been leaving their sticky trail across the tiled floor. Let sink run, while you spritz floor with cleaner and give it quick mop, then open windows, while you pop milky coffee into microwave and then close door on kitchen while the floor dries.
Head to computer chair. Know it is bad move. Sit down and put coffee on sideboard. Manoeuvre laptop on to knee and cat off it. Repeatedly prevent kitten trying to climb down front of pyjamas. Put her on floor. Raise coffee to lips. Have coffee knocked into face by spoilt kitten. Screech as hot coffee spills on to self and very expensive, beautiful throw covering armchair. Pull throw off and tip-toe over wet floor to washing machine. Notice dishes still aren’t done. Jump when child appears at kitchen door. Snuggle him until you both fall back on to couch and child kicks pot-pourri off table. Get tiny vacuum and vacuum what can be seen in dark room.
Allow child to make his own hot chocolate. Go into laundry room to feed cat. Despair as she dumps food in bowl straight on to clean floor and eats there. Put on gardening clogs and go outside to water plants and hang wet washing out. Stand basking in lovely sun. Cut lavender and take into house. Leave on laundry room counter until you have time to do something puttery with it later. Head upstairs to check school uniform. Notice sweatshirt is un-ravelling and turn child’s room upside down in search of another. Notice child has escaped from the clutches of sleep by chucking all the blankets he insists on sweltering under, straight on to the floor. Step over them and call him upstairs to sort out, quickly closing door so he does not see sheer hypocrisy of Mummies muddly bed.
Head into bathroom to find child has swiped blue toothpaste all over sink. Suddenly notice time and realize will have to get dressed if not to run risk of frightening nice man who takes child to school. Get waylaid by sorting laundry basket into darks and whites on bedroom floor. Leave there to go and answer phone. Step over vibrant pink nylon cat tunnel kitten has dragged to the bottom of stair, move it while lodging phone under chin and talking to friend while gathering Pokemon cards that are the bane of life, off sofa where they are scattered. Burn toast. Make more toast, go upstairs to find bed-making child wearing cowboy hat and shooting the wall but not making bed at all. Drag into bathroom to supervise more tooth-brushing as first effort has clearly been a dismal failure. Change loo roll and pop empty one on back of loo while child’s hair is dealt with. Accidentally kick Big Nate cartoon book under bathroom cupboard. Moan about books in bathroom. Notice bed still isn’t made. Answer door to nice man and send chatty child on his way.
Sit down at laptop and answer emails. Decide to drag wheely bin around the back of the house. Stop to talk to neighbour for many an hour. Come back in to find kitten has dragged tunnel back to bottom of the stairs and added a feather on a string and two flashing balls for good measure. Admonish her for lackadaisical attitude to housekeeping and nonchalant air of couldn’t give a damn-ness, call her “Madam” and walk off tutting. Throw on make-up and go to dash out to appointment leaving dishes in sink, beds un-made, laundry on floor and kitten to re-arrange furniture as she see’s fit.
Notice it is raining heavily. Dash back through house, fight with stable door and burst into garden to pull soaking wet laundry off line. Find yourself with no time to deal with it and abandon on top of lavender. Run back through house. Pick up post and general nonsense Royal Mail shoves through door these days and leave on top of blanket box. Get in car. Get out of car to dump scooter in porch. Drive to appointment. Drive to Waitrose to buy bottle of wine for school raffle. Drive home.
Brace yourself to open door. Find door jammed by darn scooter. Jam open to find house behaving in slovenly fashion and moping about with general air of neglect. Notice kitten has dragged two pairs of knickers from laundry basket and abandoned them in fetching, black lacy fashion on stairs. Feel appalled at kitten and self. Eat cinnamon bun with trashy magazine.
This then is how the house got messy.