On occasion, Sarah and I pass the time by playing The Lift Game. This involves discussing which of our children we would least like to be trapped with in an elevator for an extended period of time.
Clearly, being confined at length with any of them in such a small space would not be ideal but they each have their own individual traits and habits which might add just a little more 'fun' to the experience. Marie would whine the whole time, Lewis would witter and Fraser would argue. Or maybe Fraser would witter, Marie would argue and Lewis would sulk. Then again, perhaps Fraser would burp, Lewis would fart and Marie would suddenly need to go to the toilet. Before long, it would be me doing the whining...
Which of them would create the worst ordeal is open to debate, however. The answer changes regularly, based on the kids' moods, their levels of tiredness and how long it is since they've each had a bath. That said, attempting to come up with something definitive helps to distract our attention and maintain sanity when one of our offspring is being particularly trying. It's always an intriguing thought experiment.
Of course, what with the kitchen being done and most of the house out of bounds or full of junk, things have become somewhat less theoretical. We've been stuck in six foot square of lounge for much of the last fortnight. That's bigger than a typical lift, admittedly, but it's been ALL THREE CHILDREN at the same time.
Ho well. I suppose, it's not been that bad really. We've managed to figure out solutions to most of the inconveniences and we're getting by. Friends and neighbours have kindly volunteered to help with cooking and childcare but I haven't wanted to take them up on their offers very much. Preparing the kids' food and keeping them in line is something I'm used to doing in all kinds of circumstances already - it's dealing with tradesmen that's the hard part. There's so much negotiation and uncertainty involved with that, I'm happier to keep control of my own destiny as far as stuff like meals and bedtimes are concerned.
Still, there's been rather a lot of whining, arguing, sulking and burping in a limited space.
I guess maybe this is what owning a car would be like...
Yours in a woman's world,
At least our magic dish drainer is proving its worth yet again:
Doing the washing up in the lounge isn't as bad as it sounds. No, really...