Sunday, 21 April 2019

House Guest

So Isla turned fifteen, it has been Delight-ful, D.Light.Ful. Yes siree; so filled with light, and fun, and smiles, and glee and all round appreciation for the work and toil its has taken to get her to half of thirty. Oh Joy of Joy.

In other news, sarcasm has arrived in our house. Isla bought her in like an old sweaty friend who you never really liked and you SWEAR you didn’t give your new address to but she’s turned up on your doorstep and is now taking up the biggest bit of the sofa and complaining that it’s cold.

The kind that drinks your wine and wonders loudly why the bottle’s empty and eats the last twiglet while you’re uncorking the third bottle.

The one who sleeps alone in the spare room and uses every single guest towel from the cupboard and opens the emergency mini toothbrush and Colgate set and the wrapped bit of soap and steals the tampons.

The friend who eats crisps in the shower and can’t figure out why the drain’s blocked and stands there dripping on you while you poke it out with your index finger.

That friend.

So obviously we’re delighted that she’s come to stay.

It’s a little galling that Isla is better acquainted with our visiting guest than us, I mean I’ve been practising for YEARS. I’m dead sarcastic, I know it doesn’t show or anything, but inside I’m thinking sarcastic things.

The other day Isla was walking in boots that were unlaced and I pointed it out. Just nicely, you know, in the manner of a human being.

‘Uh thanks mum, like your laces are never undone”

Which they have been in the past of course, and I didn’t trip over and break my head and have three months learning to count again because another human being pointed it out to me in the manner of a human being and I bent over and did them up. 

Also, yesterday she boomed down the stairs:

Where’s that shopping I left in the car?

Did you bring it out of the car? I asked in a needing more information, mild mannered way

No

Well then it’s still in the car, I said logically.

This earned me a hair toss and a look that said your logic is old fashioned and out to get me, you dark overlord of the night. Lend me fifteen pounds to get over it.


So it really is very very nice that we have a fifteen year old living in the house, and of course Husband, dog and eleven year old.  Very very nice indeed.

4 comments:

Vicus Scurra said...

Are your laces undone?

Paul said...

It would appear that more than your laces are undone. 🤣

Gigi said...

Sarcasm and teenagers go hand in hand, unfortunately. The good news? In a few more years, your guest will probably head out the front door - only to be ushered back in through the back door by your once-eleven year old.

ADDY said...

Oh dearrrr. I reckon another ten years or so and the sarcasm will abate. A bit.