A warzone in my home

Yesterday morning (Tuesday) I got up and hoovered, polished, cleaned the kitchen floor and generally made sure that the downstairs in our house was a showroom because my nan was coming back and she was constantly complaining about how hard it was to keep the house tidy – I wanted to show her that I was able to do that, so I got up ultra-early (6am) to do all the work before I left for the office…

Yesterday evening, Granny arrived back from the airport, unpacked all her stuff and now the house looks like a warzone. There are pieces of paper everywhere, clothes, shoes, tights, you name it. I could cry. I spent time making sure the house was spotless (because all she can ever do is criticise how tidy my room isn’t – I have a small room and a lot of stuff for goodness sake) and now I know who the real messy f*ck is, and it isn’t me. I swear, she left dirty cups in the sink, and, had I not washed up, would have also left her bowl from dinner in there too.

I don’t think that, should she ever go away again, I will bother tidying anything…It just proved though, that I am not anywhere near as untidy as she is, I also have a better idea of security than her…we have glass doors and she left the frigging key in the lock when she went to bed…what kind of security conscious person does that?

ARGH…not that I am not glad she got back, but I wish she had left her mess in bloody Canada.

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