As far as first world problems go, I’ve got a hum dinger. Chez ‘Abulous is huge but we’re too tight arsed to justify the outlay on a cleaner. I am solely responsible for halting its descent into a cesspool. By necessity all the scrubbing, buffing, vacuuming and sheet changing happens on what my husband thinks is my day off – the daycare day. The rush of ecstasy I experience at kindy drop off time is short lived as I haul myself off to Colesworths for the weekly restocking. Then its home sweet home to be greeted by a place that looks like Prince Harry’s Vegas Hotel suite – the morning after.
Some of my Mumrades are aghast that I have to tackle this Herculean task alone. They argue that I should hit Dadabulous up for hired help but the Eastern Suburbs Princess crown doesn’t fit me quite yet. Perhaps one day when the world recognizes my genius I’ll have minions to take care of life’s “grunt work”. However for now it’s on with apron, rubber gloves and vacuum cleaner. I’ll probably be unhappily occupied until Kindy pick up time, pondering what I could be doing instead or as economists like to call it the “opportunity cost” of housework. Making matters worse is knowing that the kids will undo my afternoon’s hard labor within half an hour of returning home.
So how could I have better spent my time on this glorious spring afternoon?
– Wandering down the street and parking my butt in one of the numerous cafes or better still one of the two pubs. There’s a well known mega pub with an infamous beer garden nearby that’s calling my name. Unfortunately on a Thursday afternoon it should be starting to fill up with under employed NRL players.
– Meandering around Paddington and Woollahra soaking up how the 1% live and recording my wry observations in a blog post of course.
– Shopping. The change of season is calling for a wardrobe update. I want gelato colours, floral prints, fancy pants – the lot. I wont let the small issue of having wasted most of my cash on the kids and coffee stop me.
– A visit to a patisserie. Despite having recently broken up with my gym, yesterday I joyfully reignited my relationship with my skinny three quarter length jeans. I need to celebrate with tiramisu.
– Strolling along the beach, letting the lapping waves sensuously wash over my bare toes – alone. This one sounds almost too indulgent.
Why go to the effort of leaving the house at all when I could;
– Sit outside on the balcony with a bowl of tea and the iPad.
– Raid the wine rack which starting to look tellingly sparse. It is after all a Sauvignon Blanc kind of day.
– Google Michael Fassbender? Nah – I’ll save that guilty pleasure for when the weather’s bad.
What’s on your list Mumrades? Sure you may have a sparkling clean house but at what cost?