Sunday, May 14, 2017

Full house of mayhem and mirth

By Virginia Winder

Who knew such a full house would be on the cards.
These days our cup runneth over with animals, Boomerang children and now builders. But not water.
The bathroom is getting a makeover and my job today has been to keep tabs on our new dog, our daughter’s kitten and our two older cats.
The water main was turned off for eight hours, the old toilet is out by the letterbox and the jug was empty. Damn it.
I spent the day pretending I was rehearsing for a natural disaster.
On that front, we’d fail big time. We have no water stored in plastic containers, no first aid kit and the camping lantern needs to be recharged. I know where the candles are, but not the matches. At least the dog’s bowls are filled to the brim. This lack of emergency planning will be rectified once our water is back on and the bathroom is back together.
In the meantime, there was a genuine emergency - I couldn't have coffee.
The loo has also been a major problem. I had to go wild. There’s a private spot in the garden I’ve claimed for inelegant relief, but I nearly got caught.
“Virginia, are you there? Are you decent?”
A journalist mate of mine came to visit, but thankfully the builder told him I was in the garden having a pee. I don't normally discuss my toiletry habits (OK, peeing in the garden is not a habit) but me and the handyman discussed loo logistics and decided out back was best.
Also tried visiting the neighbour, but he wasn’t home. Although desperate, I refrained from watering his backyard.
I can’t stay away for too long because I have to keep the youngest animals safe.
The kitten, who is hated by Izzy, our grey and white cat (oh the dynamics) loves to race out the front door. This is scary because beyond the front fence is a main road that has claimed a couple of our beloved feline friends.  
Luna in a restrained moment
And then there’s the dog. She’s new to us and hasn’t quite learnt the house rules.
She is a one-year-old white mongrel who is part naughtiness and part gazelle. She is a leaper and a chewer.  
In our absence or when she thinks we’re not looking, she springs on to the kitchen bench, boing, like her legs are springs, and grabs things. So far she’s taken a chilli (not chewed, which may have put here off further stolen spoils), apples, the pot scrubber, a packet of pig’s ears, and a steel cloth.
She’s chewed one remote control (still usable), been caught with another in her mouth, and stolen my Yoda slippers, her dog brush, Warren’s jandals and a variety of sports shoes.
But she is adorable.
Our son Nelson decided our home didn’t feel right without a dog so he went to the SPCA and fell in love.
We have named her Luna, after Luna Lovegood from Harry Potter. She is moon-like with short white hair and crater-like spots of black.
She is a delight. Naughty but nice, affectionate, pretty good with the cats, although our black and white boy, Scoop, has attacked her twice and so Luna is terrified of him.
Izzy smooches with her – she has a thing for dogs – and Draco the kitten and Luna tumble about like lion cubs, supervised of course. 
And then there are the Boomerangs.
Clementine and Nelson – with his girlfriend – have moved home to save up to go overseas. Both have achieved tertiary success, a degree for one and a diploma for the other, so have the world before them.
In the meantime, they are our housemates.
Our children’s favourite game is called “Mock Mum”. Luckily, my self-esteem is solid otherwise their “loving” teasing would bring me down. It doesn’t. We laugh a lot and that’s good for the soul.
Who could resist these boots?
One grown-up child has decided my online shopping needs to stop, although I know some much worse than me. I do admit I may have a wild boot thing going on. 
The other adult child teases me mercilessly about my divided attention, questionable memory and lost words. Sometimes, ordinary words just don’t come out.
“Pass me that hair thing,” I say to my bemused husband.
“You mean your hairbrush?”
I am at times woolly headed and that’s not just my hair when it’s humid.
“It’s my stage in life,” I say, slightly defensively.
I’ve even researched it (OK looked it up on Google) and there are definite links between memory loss and perimenopause. Apparently it won’t last – neither will said child if the derision continues.
So, life with the Boomerangs is interesting, challenging and best of all, loads of fun.
We had a house meeting in the beginning, assigned rooms for people to look after, and talked about things we found annoying that needed to be addressed.
Clementine with Draco and Luna
No 1 was hanging up towels in the bathroom because one Boomerang somehow missed that simple life lesson. However, this child now has an accomplice. After cursing at find damp towels crumpled on the floor, I discovered I was too quick to point the finger.
Draco, who would obviously be in Slytherin house, is an acrobat. His specialty is the towel act. While sitting on the loo other day, he treated me to his death-defying act of leaping on a towel, climbing up to the rail and then swinging precariously to bring the whole thing down on top of him. It was a dazzling display of kitten dexterity and I would have applauded except I was busy with the loo paper. A roll, which, sigh, was perforated with kitten claw marks.
This was a different roll than the one he pushed into the hallway the other day for him and the dog to battle over. It was only just salvageable.
So today I have been confined to the kitchen craving coffee, dog and kitten alternating between tumbling around the floor and lying asleep in the sun, while banging, whirring, clanging and cracking sounds emanated from the freshly gutted bathroom. 
Tomorrow there will be coffee  the jug will be full  and, alas, more necessary trips behind the orange tree.
At least that’s sure to herald another surprise visitor to our extremely full but happy house.