Ah, Christmas. You are all but here.
This means just one thing. I. Am. So. Tired.
I love my job. Love. But towards the end of the year I start to get a little exhausted. Working with 23 young children will do that.
It also means the house looks like a lot like a tip. And while it will all be cleaned and polished before Christmas day is here, at the moment it is just piles upon piles of stuff. Once work is finished there will be a concerted all hands on deck effort at sorting and scrubbing, polishing and folding.
While you read this, I am at work. Cleaning. Ah, irony. The sniggering lovechild of Christmas and employment.
Exhibit A. The kitchen table. And yes, you see before you my nutritious lunch. Mmm, chicken chippies. Water counts as nutritious right?
Exhibit B. Washing piled on chair. Not high enough to collapse onto the un-mopped floor, but too high for the dog to sit on.
Exhibit C. Because when you haven’t folded the dry washing, it’s best to abandon all attempts at washing dirty clothes.
Yes, that is a butter knife on the floor. I needed it to drain the washing machine. Which also explains the empty juice bottle. Obviously.
See also a blur of dog as he attempts to make like he wasn’t sleeping on the pile of washing.
Exhibit D. Actually, I have no comment for this. Sometimes a picture says it all.
So there you have it. My pre-Christmas house. So warm, so inviting. So pinterest ready. So full of mess and tired people. And a fast depleting cocktail cabinet. It is the storm before the calm. But please don’t wait for the after photos. I will be far too exhausted from the cleaning and cajoling of teenagers to help clean to take them.
Bring on the holidays. And perhaps a cleaning elf. And a really big bottle of gin.