Housework is the bane of my life. My husband and I have more arguments about the state of the house than anything else. He, I believe, would like to live in a show home. I point out we have three kids and two dogs and with all the will in the world, show homes are bland, Stepfordesque ideals.
I am not a natural housewife. I struggle. I find better things to do. My house is clean, it’s just a bit muddly. Lived in. Has personality.
I should be:
- clearing the washing basket daily
- hoovering with aplomb
- joyously flicking my micro fleece duster around the lounge
- not nurturing sneaky cobwebs
- replenishing the pot pourri at regular intervals
- successful in my removal of weetabix from every kitchen surface
- hoovering the light shades
- wiping the skirting boards
I am not.
I am ignoring the best of it, dealing with the worst of it and all the time thinking….What would Nigella do?
Drink a large glass of wine and cook something delicious, I reckon.
I’ll do that then. Much better option…..