Thursday Night and Friday Morning

I’m not entirely sure where the last few days have gone. The word “relentless” comes to mind – both to describe the working day, and the evenings.

I cooked dinner this evening – a hastily prepared spaghetti bolognese. My youngest daughter offered to help, but given that I can make it faster on my own, and make far less mess, asked instead if she could put the clothes away that were folded on the dining table, and then set the table for dinner.

We always try to sit at the table for dinner – we always have done. Our eldest daughter questioned why we do it some time ago, and we struggled to validate it. When the kids were young it was always their chance to tell everybody what they had been doing – a crafty ruise to improve their manners, ettiquette, and language skills. They would look forward to “their turn” to relate their adventures.

These days we often get no more than a “nothing much” when we ask the kids how their day went. The only avenue that seems to ellicit much conversation is if we ask how much drama is going on between people they know.

Oh – while I think of it – if anybody out there has children that have progressed past their teenage years – when do they start to look after their room? Our younger children seem to be quite happy living in squalor. I looked in on our middle daughter earlier today, and was taken aback by the stacks of dirty plates, cups, glasses, food wrappers and dirty clothes strewn around her room.

I enquired if she might clean her room up this evening.

“Later on.”

Correct me if I’m wrong – but I think that might translate to “never”.

Anyway.

It’s getting properly late now – and I have to get up in the morning. Time to sleep.