All the men in the Collie family are tidy. Give or take a few. To begin with I couldn't help but thinking; clearly I have the more masculine gene being the totty pig that I am when it comes to keeping a room tidy. Though this wasn't always entirely true. Sometimes I failed to sleep knowing that my room was in such a state. Believe it or not my conscience also nagged at my untidy habits. Jiminy Cricket was perching there on my now overly boney shoulder having a rant. Tis a bizarre thought to acknowledge that one of the filthiest countries has turned me into a neat freak. To need everything in place before I go to sleep. To have the clothes folded and in their correct piles.
Why is it easier to do dishes here in a sink with no plug, cold water, and a trickle at that? Yet previously I would literally fight off doing the dishes at home which included a sink with a plug, hot water, a tea towel and detergent. Woah! Exciting prospect. That wasn't sarcasm, I am being serious on this one.
Yet here I bother to do the dishes, knowing that a son is too lazy and chauvinistic to help his disabled mother tidy up, despite her just cooking for him. Believe me, cooking chapatis with two hands is task enough, let alone one. Yes the males I live with are brilliant cooks, though a little heavy handed on the spice for me (but so is KFC India and I'm not even talking Hot Wings. Original recipie got switched up.) On the cleaning up while they go, and afterwards though, here is the downfall. Here is the argument I just had. Here is where I struggle with not stashing my food in my room because it is seldom to have the males purchasing food. I just struggle to understand how difficult it may be to put peelings in a bag while you go instead of throwing them all over the bench as if you were waiting for pet guinea pig to crawl from the plug hole and hoover them up.
Perhaps the maternal gene showing through, trying nicely to explain why it is important to wipe down the floor in the bathroom after 'showering'. Otherwise it turns into a big muddy, hairy, wet mess. Resembling that of a colossal bathroom monster that is only achieved through general lack of personal care and hygine. At mid twenties you would think this would be established.
And drawing comparisons between now and two months ago, it is funny. Funny how it was the Indians who once frustrated me and now it is the outsiders. Maybe because they are the ones who should know better. Who have merely had the oppurtunity at education, at being feed regularly, at having someone who actually gives a shit.