How life changes. And not necessarily for the better.
It must be a teenage thing, or a girl thing.
Or a teenage girl thing.
Kid is now almost 17, Pie is now almost 14 and both seem to have simultaneously entered a phase of their lives whereby they believe that an invisible army of worker drones is following behind them clearing up their mess and making sure there is food for them, hot water for them to shower or bath in and that anything in the house is fully available for them to use without asking.
In Pie's case, she's always been a scruffy urchin type of child. But now she's a trendy and well dressed scruffy urchin of a kid. A year or so ago I decided she'd be better off in a larger bedroom. The basis for this was that in the smaller room she possibly didn't have enough space and hence her bedroom would always be cluttered with toys and clothes. Sound male logic I think you would agree. Of course even with my experience I hadn't catered for the tender aged blooming of female logic that had already gripped her. In this case its quite simple. There would never be enough space, even if her bedroom was the size of Wembley Stadium, Women don't do minimalism when it comes to clothes, make up and perfume. Hence at any one time the bedroom floor and double bed we bought her is covered in school uniform, books, magazines, clothes, underwear, make up , handbags, perfume and all sorts of sundry 'girl' related items.
In Kids case, although never an urchin, she was gripped with a similar ailment from the age of 2, helped nicely along with huge amounts of presents on birthdays, at Christmas, after peoples holidays etc lavished on her by kindly, well meaning grandparents, Uncles, Aunts and friends. Oh and at least one of her parents for whom the phrase 'cutting back' comes out of the female logic shredder as 'buy more'.......So, Kid's bedroom, of similar size to Pie's is also a sea of clutter. As she's a tad older there are other things included here such as DVD's and college stuff. But in essence both bedrooms are the sorts of places that would give the Health and Safety Gestapo a huge panic attack. Followed by taping the room off and placing a sign saying 'Unfit for human habitation' on the door.
Of course the clutter levels in rooms also means that, according to their freshly formed female logic, the upstairs landing, the main bathroom, the downstairs hallway, the study, the living room table and even my bedside cupboard and anywhere else is a viable 'overflow' clutter park. Despite various warnings from me and from Hellsbells (who displays the same characteristics but at least has a tipping point for clutter driving her mad) that whatever we find on the floor will be binned, they just happily carry on, seemingly accepting this as just a normal hazard and that anyway, Dad will never carry it out.
Sadly they seem right. I have become ground down by this over the years. It's almost as if I've been institutionalised into accepting that this is how women live their lives.
One other aspect though that I cannot and will not accept, is the female trait of simply borrowing from anything and anyone around them. Or in some cases not borrowing, just using, taking or consuming stuff. In my case they will use my shower gel (a specific type that doesn't irritate my skin), my shampoo, my towels, my socks (thick warm ones and tiny training ones), my skin moisturiser, my headache pills and in Kid's case even my bloody razor blades. I've lost count of how many times I've got up at the ungodly hour of 6am and hobbled to the shower only to get halfway through before realising there's no shower gel or shampoo, and then on completion finding there's no towel. The carpet is stained with footprints from where I've had to leave the shower to find gel or shampoo AND then again to find a towel, usually lying in a heap somewhere on the landing. If I buy myself a treat and leave it in full view it's a guarantee they will help themselves to it. Kid will drain the filtered water from the container in the fridge and replace it ...EMPTY. Prior to being put on Statins I could safely buy grapefruit juice for my morning drink safe in the knowledge that only me and Hellsbells liked it, but now I can't have that anymore and can only drink orange juice. If we buy 5 cartons the girls will drink it as a soft drink, not just for breakfast, but at anytime. They'll pour it for their friends as well, so that when I go to the fridge bleary eyed early in the morning I can expect to find it all gone, or worse still and EMPTY carton put back in the fridge. And on the drinks front..........they will pour a diet coke or glass of squash, drink half, disappear out and leave the drink where they were. They'll even pour themselves another and leave that somewhere half full. I spend my life picking up half drunk glasses of soft drinks, usually with a tell tale sweet wrapper next to it. In their world I genuinely think they believe the fairies clear everything away. We've reached the point in the house whereby for the girls there is an invisible force field around the dishwasher which prevents them from putting their dirty plates inside it. Apparently only me and Hellsbells have the right forcefield breaking powers to open the door and load stuff in. The bin, according to their logic, and I include Hellsbells in this, has unlimited capacity. Never mind that its overflowing with rubbish, just keep on ramming stuff in because somehow the bin mysteriously manges to empty itself to the main household dustbin.
Such is this now moving beyond a mere irritation I have now started to buy stuff suffixed with 'For Men', warning them that their skin will flake off if they use it. I now hide my razor blades and keep a record of how many I have left. I even bought some Chelsea FC branded training socks to use for golf and cycling explaining that this meant they were mine, only to find a pair in Kid's room within a week. I buy Orange juice with bits because they don't like it. Any sweets or treats have to be hidden way lest they decide that as its in the house it must be fair game. Just on Tuesday this week, they went to the local shop and bought THEMSELVES a pot of Ben and Jerry's each. No thought of the poor parents in any of this. My muesli was commandeered to make a cheesecake mix with the promise of full replenishment.......guess what? Yep, never happened and never will. Next will the acquisition of some towels, maybe Chelsea ones that will be MINE and MINE only. And Hellsbells moans about me spending money.....she needs to understand why. I need to buy my own stuff to stop the girls from using/eating/drinking/wearing and borrowing it.
Ultimately it may come down to having a cupboard with a combination lock that only I know. A system so high tech it would be easier to steal The Crown Jewels.
Either that or I move into the shed.
Later, GJ
It must be a teenage thing, or a girl thing.
Or a teenage girl thing.
Kid is now almost 17, Pie is now almost 14 and both seem to have simultaneously entered a phase of their lives whereby they believe that an invisible army of worker drones is following behind them clearing up their mess and making sure there is food for them, hot water for them to shower or bath in and that anything in the house is fully available for them to use without asking.
In Pie's case, she's always been a scruffy urchin type of child. But now she's a trendy and well dressed scruffy urchin of a kid. A year or so ago I decided she'd be better off in a larger bedroom. The basis for this was that in the smaller room she possibly didn't have enough space and hence her bedroom would always be cluttered with toys and clothes. Sound male logic I think you would agree. Of course even with my experience I hadn't catered for the tender aged blooming of female logic that had already gripped her. In this case its quite simple. There would never be enough space, even if her bedroom was the size of Wembley Stadium, Women don't do minimalism when it comes to clothes, make up and perfume. Hence at any one time the bedroom floor and double bed we bought her is covered in school uniform, books, magazines, clothes, underwear, make up , handbags, perfume and all sorts of sundry 'girl' related items.
In Kids case, although never an urchin, she was gripped with a similar ailment from the age of 2, helped nicely along with huge amounts of presents on birthdays, at Christmas, after peoples holidays etc lavished on her by kindly, well meaning grandparents, Uncles, Aunts and friends. Oh and at least one of her parents for whom the phrase 'cutting back' comes out of the female logic shredder as 'buy more'.......So, Kid's bedroom, of similar size to Pie's is also a sea of clutter. As she's a tad older there are other things included here such as DVD's and college stuff. But in essence both bedrooms are the sorts of places that would give the Health and Safety Gestapo a huge panic attack. Followed by taping the room off and placing a sign saying 'Unfit for human habitation' on the door.
Of course the clutter levels in rooms also means that, according to their freshly formed female logic, the upstairs landing, the main bathroom, the downstairs hallway, the study, the living room table and even my bedside cupboard and anywhere else is a viable 'overflow' clutter park. Despite various warnings from me and from Hellsbells (who displays the same characteristics but at least has a tipping point for clutter driving her mad) that whatever we find on the floor will be binned, they just happily carry on, seemingly accepting this as just a normal hazard and that anyway, Dad will never carry it out.
Sadly they seem right. I have become ground down by this over the years. It's almost as if I've been institutionalised into accepting that this is how women live their lives.
One other aspect though that I cannot and will not accept, is the female trait of simply borrowing from anything and anyone around them. Or in some cases not borrowing, just using, taking or consuming stuff. In my case they will use my shower gel (a specific type that doesn't irritate my skin), my shampoo, my towels, my socks (thick warm ones and tiny training ones), my skin moisturiser, my headache pills and in Kid's case even my bloody razor blades. I've lost count of how many times I've got up at the ungodly hour of 6am and hobbled to the shower only to get halfway through before realising there's no shower gel or shampoo, and then on completion finding there's no towel. The carpet is stained with footprints from where I've had to leave the shower to find gel or shampoo AND then again to find a towel, usually lying in a heap somewhere on the landing. If I buy myself a treat and leave it in full view it's a guarantee they will help themselves to it. Kid will drain the filtered water from the container in the fridge and replace it ...EMPTY. Prior to being put on Statins I could safely buy grapefruit juice for my morning drink safe in the knowledge that only me and Hellsbells liked it, but now I can't have that anymore and can only drink orange juice. If we buy 5 cartons the girls will drink it as a soft drink, not just for breakfast, but at anytime. They'll pour it for their friends as well, so that when I go to the fridge bleary eyed early in the morning I can expect to find it all gone, or worse still and EMPTY carton put back in the fridge. And on the drinks front..........they will pour a diet coke or glass of squash, drink half, disappear out and leave the drink where they were. They'll even pour themselves another and leave that somewhere half full. I spend my life picking up half drunk glasses of soft drinks, usually with a tell tale sweet wrapper next to it. In their world I genuinely think they believe the fairies clear everything away. We've reached the point in the house whereby for the girls there is an invisible force field around the dishwasher which prevents them from putting their dirty plates inside it. Apparently only me and Hellsbells have the right forcefield breaking powers to open the door and load stuff in. The bin, according to their logic, and I include Hellsbells in this, has unlimited capacity. Never mind that its overflowing with rubbish, just keep on ramming stuff in because somehow the bin mysteriously manges to empty itself to the main household dustbin.
Such is this now moving beyond a mere irritation I have now started to buy stuff suffixed with 'For Men', warning them that their skin will flake off if they use it. I now hide my razor blades and keep a record of how many I have left. I even bought some Chelsea FC branded training socks to use for golf and cycling explaining that this meant they were mine, only to find a pair in Kid's room within a week. I buy Orange juice with bits because they don't like it. Any sweets or treats have to be hidden way lest they decide that as its in the house it must be fair game. Just on Tuesday this week, they went to the local shop and bought THEMSELVES a pot of Ben and Jerry's each. No thought of the poor parents in any of this. My muesli was commandeered to make a cheesecake mix with the promise of full replenishment.......guess what? Yep, never happened and never will. Next will the acquisition of some towels, maybe Chelsea ones that will be MINE and MINE only. And Hellsbells moans about me spending money.....she needs to understand why. I need to buy my own stuff to stop the girls from using/eating/drinking/wearing and borrowing it.
Ultimately it may come down to having a cupboard with a combination lock that only I know. A system so high tech it would be easier to steal The Crown Jewels.
Either that or I move into the shed.
Later, GJ
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