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Mi casa, su casa

...is a pinciple I adhere to in theory; but one which I find works out rather differently in real life. The thing is, when you tell your guests, 'mi casa, su casa', you subconsciously expect them not only to treat your house and everything in it as theirs, but also to treat them as you would yourself.

After 5 days of playing host to Caroline, I was reaching the end of my tether. It's the little things that got to me. Why couldn't she f*cking well learn to close the toilet and bathroom doors behind her, for instance? Why couldn't she clean up after herself? And most infuriatingly, why did she use half of my jar of Lancôme Vinéfit as body lotion after she'd had a bath? I mean, of course she was welcome to use some of it on her face, but why would she want to put daycream on her elbows and feet? How could she not have seen the supersized bottle of Nivea body lotion that stood slightly to the right of my Lancôme that is far too expensive to use for that purpose? And why didn't she apologise when I called her on it?

Still, it wasn't all bad, and on the whole, I did like the company. But I must admit, that it feels heavenly to have my flat all to myself and the cats again. I think that the older I get, the more stayed in my ways I get as well, and I don't react to change as well as I used to. Or maybe it's just that I'm not used to having to take other people into account. I never normally have to fight over the remote!

Because she wanted to take the opportunity to schlepp home some of the possessions she'd left behind when she moved back to the UK a couple of months ago, after writing off her 3 years in The Netherlands as a total loss since she hadn't succeeded in finding a job she liked or anyone to shag, I offered to help her get all her stuff onto the plane. Loaded down with goods, we arrived at Schiphol. Caroline checked in and I left to catch the first train home. 2 Minutes before it was due, there she was in front of me again, red in the face and out of breath, with all her many bags around her. It turned out she was over the limit, and she didn't want to pay for the extra luggage. So we took out some stuff, and then I took her to the check-in counter again...where another clerk, obviously influenced by the spirit of Christmas, said she could take most of the stuff we'd taken out at no extra cost. Again, the items switched places in the bags and boxes, which then had to be scanned again before they could be checked in...in the end, she just made her plane.

A few hours later, she called to say she'd arrived safely in Birmingham...and that next time she came over, she would bring me another jar of Lancôme. I told her she's welcome anytime. I just hope it's not going to be anytime soon.


( 3 Speak Like A Child — Shout To The Top )
Dec. 21st, 2003 07:44 pm (UTC)
You're a nice, forgiving hostess. I had my granddaughter over last night (during my party, that is, and after -- she spent the night.) She didn't use up any lotion but she did put my freshly-cleaned carpet in danger of makeup stains, my bathroom floor in danger of glass shards (bad for DH's diabetic feet) and she wrinkled the hell out of a new magazine. She bothered the cats and I got next to no sleep. (Stuck to me like a warm little limpet all night.) I could not wait to take her home this afternoon.
Dec. 22nd, 2003 04:05 am (UTC)
During the school holidays, my niece always likes to come and stay with me for a few days. I love her to bits, even though she does all the things you've mentioned your granddaughter doing at your place, and sprawls out in my double bed in such a way that I find it hard not to fall out of it on the other side, but I'm never as happy as when the few days are up and I've handed her back to her mother. How she manages with 3 kids (aged 15, 10 and 2), I really can't begin to imagine.
Dec. 22nd, 2003 05:42 am (UTC)
Oh, absolutely! My friend Kathy has been sick as a pup with this virus, with a 4-and-a-half-year-old and a 2-year-old, and I don't know how she handles it, either. I just got used to my adult-only lifestyle and seem unable to go back. (We had custody of her once upon a time, but couldn't handle her. Bad us.)
( 3 Speak Like A Child — Shout To The Top )