I'm on babysitting duty this week back home in my folks' house in Kildare. They headed off this morning, leaving me in charge of two dogs, two builders, an electrician and some other handy type person whose purpose I've already forgotten. It's nice to be back here, if a little strange. I haven't been home much over the last few months and things have changed in my absence. The house has been transformed, for starters. It looks beautiful, but I'm a little afraid to touch things in case I break them. I feel like a bit of a squatter, truth be told. I lost my room to my sister, and then lost my sister's room to my parents (I know, I know... one is unfortunate but two is just careless, etc.) but I have inherited a very expensive couch bed and some bespoke cupboards in the office. I think I'll get one of those signs kids put on their bedroom doors and nail it up on the office door for all to see; "Rosie's Room. Keep Out". It won't fit with the decor, but it'd give me a sense of owning the space.
There are some things I will thoroughly enjoy about being home for the week. Free food, for one. I'll be eating rings around myself. Having a car, and driving everywhere just because I can (though the novelty will wear off quickly with all the quality time I'll be spending on the N7, commuting to work). The two dogs greeting my appearance each morning with rapturous joy, one of them so excited she literally wets herself (it's rare I get that from my flatmates, much as they love me). It's very quiet without the family in residence though, and frustrating that I can't ask them where the fuck they've put everything (after the great remodelling it's like going to Tesco when they've had a shelf shuffle, you know it's there but you just can't find it).
The two dogs are staring pleadingly at me; the blonde with a sliotar stuffed in her gob, the street urchin with a mouthful of the blonde's hair in hers. They can fuck off though. It's lashing.
There are some things I will thoroughly enjoy about being home for the week. Free food, for one. I'll be eating rings around myself. Having a car, and driving everywhere just because I can (though the novelty will wear off quickly with all the quality time I'll be spending on the N7, commuting to work). The two dogs greeting my appearance each morning with rapturous joy, one of them so excited she literally wets herself (it's rare I get that from my flatmates, much as they love me). It's very quiet without the family in residence though, and frustrating that I can't ask them where the fuck they've put everything (after the great remodelling it's like going to Tesco when they've had a shelf shuffle, you know it's there but you just can't find it).
The two dogs are staring pleadingly at me; the blonde with a sliotar stuffed in her gob, the street urchin with a mouthful of the blonde's hair in hers. They can fuck off though. It's lashing.
