forgotten manners and toothache.

It’s a good thing we packed a load of boxes at the weekend because this evening we haven’t so much as touched cardboard.  There are a couple of reasons for this:

Justification #1 – I spent two hours  after work clearing said boxes into one place so the house looked a little less like a squatters haven.  I did this because I had agreed that a potential new tenant could come and view the house at 6pm and I thought it only fair that I made it at least possible for them to imagine it as a nice tidy home.  Believe me, when I walked through the door after a day at work the last thing I felt like doing was wrestling with my vacuum cleaner and lugging boxes into the kitchen.  But I did.  Mr C got home 10 minutes before the potential tenants were due to arrive and rather than give him a smooch I squawked at him like a deranged crow and nudged him in the direction of the rabbit’s indoor hutch as I ran upstairs with the vacuum cleaner.

Translation: Good afternoon love of my life, would you awfully mind cleaning the rabbit’s bed out while I vacuum upstairs?

With about one minute to spare we collapsed on the sofa to wait for the familiar noise of our gate squeaking open.  After five minutes we started to watch the clock.  The girls arrived home from granny and granddad’s at 6.15 and still no one to view the house.  By 6.30 I was pouting as I served up Mr C’s and my dinner before it turned to charcoal in the oven.  By 7.30 I was just downright infuriated.  Not even a message to cancel.  Some people!

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With the little bears in bed we sat and grumbled about a distinct lack of manners in some people, but then chose to be a pair of Pollyanna’s and look on the bright side of things.  We’re not having to try to sell this house – as much as we want to help out our landlady, it doesn’t really affect us how quickly new tenants are found.  Plus we have a lovely tidy house…For a while.

Justification #2 – I have had pain in my gum for a few days now, and I’m pretty sure it’s going to end up in an emergency appointment at the dentist. At first I thought it was a wisdom tooth finally coming through, but it looks less like a tooth and more like a wobbly white bump. I told my colleague this morning that I wondered if I had an abscess and we both agreed we don’t have time for that to happen, and so it won’t.  Wouldn’t it be wonderful if you really could decide problems and inconveniences away?

So having spent ages on the house after work and pitifully pawing my jaw like an wounded bear I decided to call it a day on all mentally and physically strenuous efforts.  And that included packing boxes.

Mr C has just sought me out to inform me that the rabbit has bitten his nipple.  This is a story I really need to hear so I’ll leave the ramblings there.

Mrs C x

What’s your best justification for avoiding evening chores?

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