Title reference: “The Magicians & Mrs. Quent” by Galen Beckett
***
After the Sofocle-extravaganza, I thought it would be good for both Tate and I, if we sat down and discussed a few basic rules that would make living together if not great, then at least... bearable, on my part. So I lured my buddy with the promise of fried chicken, beer and nuts, and a much bigger TV than the one he currently has, and he willingly came... The poor lamb, walking into the wolf's lair. Or whatever the right expression was... Hanging with Tate would have an impact on your brain. He's like a dumber version of Dr. Hannibal Lecter, the way he “feasts” on your brain... function, I mean function! Anyway, Tate came and he had a couple of his ”movies” with him, which won him a scold from me, that in return brought a smile to his face.
Note to self 1: Don't leave Tate alone with the TV. Or the DVD. Or the laptop. Basically, turn the electricity off when you leave. He doesn't know how to fix it anyway.
Tate kicked his shoes off, revealing a pair of mismatched striped socks, and jumped on the couch...
Note to self 2: Explain to Tate that jumping on the furniture, over and over and over again, is wrong and will simply not do. Being 3 years old is not a bad thing per se, but it's high time he took the next step and turned 4. O, geez!
...after which he grabbed the KFC box of chicken, opened it and started eating right there and then.
Note to self 3... O, forget it! Just write him a list... or make a cartoon on Power Point.
I brought us plates, set next to Tate, tickling his feet off the couch to make space for myself, and helped myself to some hot chicken and a glass of foamy beer. Umm, yummy! After I'd eaten a couple of chicken wings I coughed, to take Tate's attention off the TV screen, and jumped right on the topic.
Rules. Habits that we need to have to keep the house clean. And not kill each other in the process of adjusting to one-another's way of living.
Number one would have been “Take your shoes off”, but luckily Tate had figured that one out on his own and, as far as I knew, was sticking to it, so I did not bother mentioning it. Who knows? He might misunderstand me or something, and loose one of his few good habits.
Second on my (mental) list was the simple rule of “clean as you go”. You know, pick your dirty socks off the floor, put your dishes in the dishwasher, if you see something spilled go grab a towel, don't ignore it till it goes away. It never goes away!
Third one, and I admit that I, myself, have a hard time following this one, is to “develop a routine”. Designate a day for different chores, one day for the kitchen, one for the bathroom, etc. - if we stick to it, I'd get us both a cookie. My, how that lifted Tate's mood!
Number 4 - “Throw things away”! No, Tate, not at me or at the wall! That one took a bit longer to explain, but my buddy finally got it, while shoving yet another piece of chicken in his mouth, and gave me the “thumbs up”. The mere notion that Tate actually does pretty well in University is a fact that should worry us all!
Last rule I did not say out load, though in my book it fell under “really important!” - make Tate actually be involved in the cleaning! Not just pretend he's doing something, while searching for cleaning services in the paper.
Of course, by the time I'd finished explaining all the rules to Tate, I was already certain that the sooner we find a reliable cleaning services London company, and booked us an appointment, the better. Even if my buddy actually bothered to follow the rules, I highly doubted he'd last long! I give him a month, more or less.
After that it's “Freedom to all!”
And heaven to the domestic cleaning company!
Serves us right, when we're lazy!
And, yes, I did say “we”. There should be a reason why we're friends, right?
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