spit and polish

 

 

So I've just had to decant an enormous curry made for five into a Tupperware box. I cooked on auto pilot; it's only Olly and me at home this week. Then again, that's Saturday's tea sorted. A sort of serendipity. And it occurred to me that meal times will change around here very soon. Without Sam, I will not have to stick to such a rigid tea time routine. Since secondary school, he has slunk into the kitchen at about ten to five every evening, asking "When's tea ready?" That won't be happening from September.

Mealtimes will not be so complex either. I'm so used to cooking at least three different meals (I know already), that it will feel rather strange to only cook one, maybe two. Definitely two. Now I think about it, Alfie will only eat three main meals; macaroni cheese, roast (grudgingly) and a cooked breakfast tea. He'd happily eat pizza every day. But even I put my foot down with that one.

And while we're on the subject.... laundry. I'll have less laundry! Sam gets through the entire contents of his drawers in a single day. I've given up asking him to wear his pyjamas more that once. It's easier to just stuff them in the machine and mutter under my breath. I'll be helping to save the planet one less wash at a time.

Then there's the ironing. Sam is partial to a shirt. It's all part of this preppy look that he's got going on. Trouble is he wears them even if he's not going out of the house. With relaxy pants. Why? I've given up asking. Or suggesting that a t-shirt would suffice when he's hunched over his computer, or lounging in front of the tv. It's not unusual for me to iron fifteen shirts a week. I'll have a third less by September. I feel giddy just thinking about it.

What else? Well I won't have the pleasure of emptying his bin. I think some of the stuff I tip out of there may not conform to EU regulations. And the general unkemptness of his room. I spent the best part of today giving his and his brother's room a deep clean. It was hideous. Honestly. I think I've gone in and out of their rooms several times, just for the sheer pleasure of seeing them so sparkly. With open windows, blinds drawn and everything.

I'll miss his sense of humour though. He does make me laugh. And what's even better is that I make him laugh too. He says I'm the funniest person he knows, which is high praise indeed I reckon. And I'll miss his relentless thirst for knowledge. His broad intelligence, and the fact that I now turn to him to answer a question rather than the other way around. I'll miss his interest in politics and world affairs. His love of history. His beautiful green eyes. The way he looks up under his fringe at me when I'm cross. The fact that he will always say sorry, and seeks me out to make up when we've had a row.

Oh dear, I think I'm really going to miss my boy.

Leanne xx

(the pictures were from a recent visit to Lanhydrock. I wouldn't mind cooking three different meals, all ready to eat at 5 on the dot if I had a kitchen like this)