Monday, 23 January 2017

Move over darling....

Well. it's been an interesting week.

Son number two dropped a small bombshell into the conversation on Monday which would have stopped me in my tracks, had I not been driving down the A4155 at the time.  Having been successfully employed in a great paying job for a couple of months, he has decided to go back to university.  My initial reaction of 'WHAAAAAAAAAAT?????' was tempered down somewhat to 'Oh.  What's made you decide on that then?'  Turns out he wants a degree and to just try again, and, in his words, 'experience the whole university thing'.

Now I have just recovered from the premature exit from Brighton University, five weeks after dropping him there amidst the detritus and squalor as befitting university accommodation, so I have to confess, I was slightly concerned to think of him going back after such a bad experience the first time round.  I was very relieved that he wasn't thinking of returning to Brighton, choosing instead, a university a mere half an hour away.  The journey down to Brighton was not one I would care to be reliving every six weeks or so, but it seems that he has finally realised that 'Home is Where the Heart Is'.  It's also the place where free accommodation, food, washing and ironing happens, so I think that the mercenary little devil has put some thought into this.

So in the space of a month, I have gone from being paid a decent rent from son number two to cover general stuff, so having him back here, eating me out of house and home and begging for money on a regular basis.  I sometimes feel like I am on a treadmill, with someone else in charge of the controls.  One day, perhaps everything in my house will be quiet and still....just not yet.

Daughter number one is still here, waiting for her flat to be finished so that she can move out and in.  I'm frightened that I have made it too comfortable for her here.  Perhaps loosening the latch on the windows so that they don't close, and running the radiator dry might work.  One whiff of the cold, and she'd be out of here like a long dog.  Talking of dogs, the two fuzzballs share her bed when she's here.  Perhaps some light training might be done during the day with regard to bed hogging and nocturnal 'cleaning' sessions.  Oh hang on, they do that already, and even that hasn't worked.

And then there is son number one.  He's in the middle of exams, so we all know exactly where he is.  In four months' time, when the exams are finished, we'll know exactly where he'll be then too....Back here that's where.  The only one who seems to have moved out and stayed out is daughter number two, who seems to have carved out a lovely life for herself in Milton Keynes.  I do miss her living here, but I don't miss the Afghan Hound hair extensions which used to block my hoover every week, nor do I miss the gaps in my wardrobe where clothes have been borrowed.

Going back to son number two, he tells me that going to the local university and living at home won't be much of a change from his life now.  Just that instead of going to work each day, he'll be going to university.

Oh yes, exactly the same...

Except that you'll be skint and sleeping in till midday....

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