How Bored Would You Have To Be?

Sunday dawned fine and sunny. Big plans to rearrange some furniture, bring a massive table down very narrow stairs, re-locate the computer so that if I was actually paying attention I’d be able to see what was going on.
It became quite a palaver, as A could only move to B if B was moved to C, which couldn’t be done in a hurry because C was a total mess and needed sorted. Had to employ the 15 minute method and chase the jobs with some Criminal Minds.
In the morning Jim claimed he was bored, bored, bored, bored. His friend couldn’t play until after lunch.
So Jim-the-wierdo decided to clean the toilet? Even put on some little plastic disposable gloves. Attacked the U bend with great gusto, scrubbed the floor, washed the shells in the little cistern sink, changed the hand towels, picked all the books up off the floor and put them on the shelf, stacked the magazines neatly, alphabetized the tampons.
When he’d finished he peeled off his plastic gloves with a flourish, like Dr Shepherd finishing brain surgery, dumped them in the rubbish and took the rubbish out.
Kev sat around honing his obnoxious skills until club started at 1.
Evening came and miracle of miracles, we all sat around the table and ate together, even laughing, joking and conversing. No one cried, no one slammed off. A casual observer, peering through the window, might, before we had them arrested, be forgiven for thinking we were a family.
So, all in all, weekend not too shabby.

3 thoughts on “How Bored Would You Have To Be?

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