This picture reminds of the perfect show home and not like my home in any way. Since having my children and picking up mementoes as I go along, it is a muddled version of what you see.
I have a dog, so I am constantly hoovering to get rid of the hairs. As a writer, I am not your general housewife. Don’t get me wrong, there are days when I need to tidy. I look at the mess and try and get it looking like the show home you see.
I feel like the caretaker Filch in Harry Potter after the Battle of Hogwarts.
My husband would love a new kitchen, he is obsessed with it. The only way we are going to get that to happen is to win the lottery, or for me to sell more of my books. Not sure which one is the most unlikely.
For me none of that really matters. I don’t go into other people’s homes and think ‘Oh your kitchen is a mess’, I go to see my family and friends. Since COVID, it has made me value family more. We saw my husband’s side of the family a few days ago. It has been four years, but it was like only a few days had passed. Apart from the children we met before turning into teenagers overnight.
Do I want the perfect show home? No I don’t. If family wanted to visit, would I attempt to tidy. Yes, I probably would. I would want to show the best impression of me even though I know it will never be perfect.
How can it be? I have a dog, a job, and not enough hours in the day. I barely find the time to wash up. There is that constant hope that my husband, son and his friend will do this, but all that happens is the sink gets fuller. When one of them does eventually wash up, they expect praise.