A few days ago I looked in my kitchen cupboard and thought that as soon as our between-term holidays began I would need to get it tidied up. Or more correctly, get Sons#4 and #5 to clean it (they just love that job - not!). Wisely I didn't say a word to them: no point in giving them time to think up excuses or to find alternate occupations for their hands.Imagine my surprise when I was in the kitchen this morning and Son#4 started pulling out bottles and containers from said cupboard and cleaning it out.
WITHOUT
BEING
ASKED.
Of course it doesn't take a nuclear physicist to guess the reason. All those unwanted bottles had to go somewhere and he knows how much I hate going to the recycling station so he offered to go for me.
IN THE CAR.
BY HIMSELF.
How easy it is to get teenage sons to do something if they think it means they'll get the keys to the car! I wonder what other jobs I can get done these holidays?
Still on kitchens, my DIL#1 seems to be missing her kitchen. I offered her mine! I wouldn't care if I never had to step foot in a kitchen again except to clean it. I love clean kitchens. The shinier and cleaner the better. I just hate any of the other activities that go on in the kitchen (except eating of course, but we don't tend to do that in the kitchen).
When we first moved to New Zealand and were living with my husband's parents it wasn't my kitchen that I missed or made me long for my own home. No, it was my piano. I couldn't wait until we could move into our own house and unpack the piano. The wait seemed endless. Imagine my disappointment then when we unpacked the piano and discovered that it had been damaged in transit. Beyond repair.
There are now three upright pianos in our home (one belongs to DIL#1 and one doesn't play well) plus a keyboard. And while I'm happy to give up my kitchen, I'm not giving up my piano!
Comments