My girls will get a taste of their own medicine one day
Empty Nest Syndrome: something that women, apparently, suffer from once their kids have all left home. For me, that day is at least 13 years in the future. When it comes, and my dear little children have set up their own homes and chosen soft furnishings with care, I intend to be there. Armed with Weetabix, Marmite, jam, and other sundries.
I shall be sporting wellington boots. I’ll have worn these previously to a wood and, if possible, have trampled through a vast quantity of dog poo.
Around my waist there will a utility belt, where I will be carrying my arsenal of permanent markers, super glue, and several biros.
Upon entry to the humble abode, I shall make my way to the living room – on a scooter. I’ll ride down the wooden floor while dragging the break across it, holding one Marmite-smeared hand on the wall as I go.
As soon as I spot a sofa, I shall disembark and land, with a flourish, upon it. There, I shall bounce in the manner of a rubber ball. My poo-smeared wellies will embed themselves in the upholstery and, once destroyed, I’ll make my way to the kitchen.
I’ll take some milk from the fridge, swig it from the bottle, and then pour some on my Weetabix. Once it’s mushy, I’ll use a large spoon of the wooden variety to take ladles full and splatter it across the cupboards. Then I’ll work some glue behind the handles so it gets them where they least expect it.
By this point, upstairs will be beckoning. My dirty hands and I will smear our way up the walls, and I’ll sprinkle great handfuls of fluorescent loom bands as I go. Loom bands in the carpet, loom bands tucked in the underwear drawers, loom bands in the beds. Yay. If the timing is right, I may even use the toilet and leave it unflushed for their friends to find.
Finally, from my backpack I shall produce five alarm clocks, each ready to go off on the hour every hour from midnight onwards. I shall deposit these in the most discreet places, and leave knowing that my work there is done.
Welcome to my world, girls, welcome to my world.