Before anyone gets the wrong idea, don’t worry, this isn’t an account of me chained, hanging upside down in a dungeon, being whipped with a riding crop, shouting ‘yes, I’ve been a naughty girl, yes, I’ve been really, REALLY, BAAAAAAD….!’ Because of course, I’ve never done anything like that in my life (really!) Plus, I have 2 children, so Netflix and Chill (I’m so un-down with the kids nowadays, I’m only just coming to terms with this rebranding of what I consider to be watching The Vampire Diaries with a glass of wine and some popcorn,) is just that. Drinking wine until we fall asleep, then moving upstairs to sleep some more, until we are woken at unimaginable o’clock by screaming banshees and assassins. My legs are firmly closed for business! This, is literally an account of my house, which this week I have really come to realise, is a filthy cesspit, which we really should be evicted from until fumigation has taken place…
Dirty confession number 1:
I had noticed in the fridge that there was a dark presence behind the bottom drawer (I was going to call it the vegetable drawer, because its where I keep veg and salad, but realise that not all of you will use it for this purpose, so to avoid confusion, I’ve just called it ‘the drawer.’ I also don’t know why I’m doing a long, uneccessary, bracketed explanation of this, but I’ve started now, so I’ll finish…) I pulled The Drawer out, and some unidentifiable object had gone rogue, gotten behind there, and was delighting in going mouldy in peace. I left it, with the intention of getting rid of it ‘when I had more time.’ Honestly, I don’t even know why I think that anymore, because things that go on my ‘when I’ve got more time’ list, join the other 9.6 million things on that list that never get done. A few days later, the fridge was stinking. ‘It must be that mould’ I thought, so I removed The Drawer, and I kid you not, the mould was literally the size of, and resembled a brain… I donned some gloves, and removed it. Gross brain-mould gone…
Dirty confession number 2:
Even after I had removed the brain-mould, the fridge still stank… Ok, so it wasn’t the brain-mould making it smell. I dutifully ‘found time,’ and went through everything in the fridge to check the use by date (I have been known to leave half empty jars in there for months, until the mould grows so much it nearly explodes out of the jar.) But no, everything was fine (a miracle) so I just scrubbed every shelf to see if that did it. No, it still stank, and I was baffled. Errr, I’m still to this day baffled…
Dirty confession number 3:
I leave nappies laying around all over the house. I change the children wherever we happen to be in the house, (I don’t bother with a mat anymore,) and stick the nappy in the corner somewhere. Thus every room accrues nappies in it, somewhere. I should go around at the end of every day and collect them, but I don’t. The thought of ignoring them in favour of watching back to back Suits, is too appealing. Sometimes, it’s not until I stumble out of my room at 5am, to the acrid stench of days old nappies choking me, that I think ‘I really should collect up the nappies now.’
Dirty confession number 4:
I still leave the house without the changing bag, more often than I take it (3 years on the job, and I’ve clearly learnt nothing…) So more often than not, a dirty face or snotty nose, will get wiped with an item of my clothing. However, sometimes my children will routinely just grab my top and use it as a tissue, and they did it this week, in the park, in front of one of our horrified friends. Also this week, on a day I did remember to take the changing bag out with us, the littlest child was rooting around in it for snacks, and pulled out something asking ‘can I eat this?’ I screwed up my face, trying to remember which snacks I had packed as I couldn’t quite recognise what he was holding. It was with horror that I realised it was a mouldy, maggoty, bag of sandwiches that I’d saved from Pret A Manger moths ago, ‘to be eaten tomorrow,’ and promptly forgotten about them, and left them in the changing bag, which had been chucked unceremoniously into a corner, probably next to a pile of dirty nappies…
Dirty confession number 5:
Ok, so no matter how gross the rest of the house is, I try to chuck bleach down the toilet as regularly as I can. A couple of days ago, the law of sod stated that as I hadn’t gotten around to doing this for a number of days, the man who came to collect our old car that we were selling, wanted to come in and use the toilet before he went on his way. When he asked, my brain screamed ‘no, you can’t. It would be more hygienic for you to pee right here on the door step.’ But the British part of my brain made me open my mouth and say ‘yes of course! Go straight through to the back, it’s on the left!’ I wanted to shout after him ‘can you ignore the hallway lined with dirty nappies, and just make your eyes unsee the skids in the toilet…please…?’
It was at this point that I deduced I need to give in and get a cleaner. Don’t get me wrong, I used to be house proud. My mum has what I think may be a real problem, where it comes to cleanliness, so when I moved out, I did delight a little in being a little messy, but I’d always tidy it up eventually. But with the equivalent of five children to look after (ok, only 2 actual ones, but my husband is messy, so he’s the equivalent of another 2, and my blog is like a baby, so that effectively makes 5,) there really isn’t the time… Please don’t judge me…
If you are like me, and standards have slipped massively, please let me know your Dirty Confession!
Thanks for reading!
xoxo
