So, our big news this week is that we’re moving house AGAIN.
There are many reasons for this move, apart from the obvious one that the old man and I are just that little bit too comfortable about being old before our time.
The first is the fact that 90% of Sydney rental properties refuse to accept that the Princess is not in fact a dog, and the second relates to our son, Kurt. We have come to the conclusion that secreting our son three floors above us in the attic is not one of our better parenting ideas after all and moving to an apartment will help us
police him better develop our relationship with him.
The minor fact that I am completely OVER cleaning has nothing to do with it at all.
We had the choice of a very nice, large family house in a suburb close-by, but we have grown to love our suburb and think we’re ready for a few luxuries that only an apartment can provide.
We’ve had to lie, OBVIOUSLY, to be allowed admittance into this lovely and as yet, untainted block.
We’re still working on how best to conceal the drum kit, and intend to work on the Princess’s barking disorder (when anyone dares breathe in a 3 km radius of our house); Kurt has also promised not to use the roof terrace or the library room as a smoking/party area.
So the tension excitement is building slowly as we plan what needs to be organised over the next two weeks.
There are only two minor issues: the first is to persuade Kurt that this is the right decision for him. He sees (what is a beautiful, secure building) as a potential prison-in-disguise and had rather taken to the other house, complete with music studio/illegal drug den in the attic.
He sees having his bedroom on the same floor of us as an invasion of his privacy and has taken to behaving like a caged animal.
The other impending issue is that we obviously have to get rid of an enormous amount of our ‘stuff’ and this has provoked the old man to crack a smile on his face for the first time in a very long time. In fact, I’m not certain if he is more excited about the prospect of being the only tenant in the building with an empty storage cage or the option of having the storage cage to escape to in times of dire need. He has spent the past 24 hours walking around our current house, pointing to my precious pieces of furniture and accessories and saying ‘you’ll have to get rid of that too, Lou.’
This desire for minimalism fits in with his new philosophy to simplify our lives.
We are waiting for him to point at us.