I have become incompatible with my family. Or to put it another way, their lifestyle no longer fits in with mine. When my children were children, I was happy to do everything for them. After all, you only have one childhood and when you are an adult, life becomes one long list of responsibilities. So let them play while they can. However, this was based on the premise that once they left school they would also leave home. Foolish dreams! We are in an era of boomerang kids, where after a short foray into the world, they realise how good it was at home and boomerang back into their rooms, which of course were not converted into my own space while they were gone. No, it was simply a matter of plugging in the hairdryer and the lava lamps and everything was back to normal.
And who would want to move out of a 6-star hotel with incredible service and unbelievably affordable rates?
Laundry that is left in a heap on the floor miraculously appears washed, ironed and folded with 3 days at the most. Opening the fridge leads you into a world of sumptuous snacking. Dirty dishes left in the kitchen are whisked into the dishwasher by the kitchen fairy and reappear, neatly stacked in the cupboards ready for the next restaurant quality meal which has come to be expected, and with dessert please, hot in winter and maybe a little fancy cheese and biscuits for variety.
Downstairs in the garage, He Who Can Fix Anything potters away at gearboxes and other assorted machinery. When a friend turns up in the normal course of a Sunday, a simple knock on the ceiling will indicate to me that coffee is required, preferably accompanied by scones which I will have all the ingredients for, waiting in the cupboard. And if it's near lunchtime, of course there will always be enough to feed extras, without any consultation with the chef.
I'm seriously thinking of a sabbatical - perhaps a year in Provence? Or two in Tuscany.
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