Wednesday, 4 March 2015

Outgrowing our house

My house is too small.

I don't mean, "Oh no, we've only got three bedrooms and the bathroom's downstairs, and the kitchen's not big enough for a table, and we can't all fit in the dining room..." No. I mean, our house is LITERALLY too small.

Teen is now 6'2'', and still growing apace. I live in a cottage where even I have to duck when I come down the stairs. Teen has to cower through doorways, and in the kitchen, his head brushes the light fitting (please God his hair doesn't go up in flames).

There is a spare bit of wall in the utility room which I've marked their growing chart on, and even this is now proving ridiculous. Tween's measurement is now off the wall and up on the ceiling, meaning that when I attempt to see how tall he is, he has to crook his head at right angles.

It is beyond belief.

And Tween isn't far behind. He is 12 now and 5'9'', just taller than me, and is a beefy rugby boy (whilst Teen is a lanky streak of piss). When Tween is spreadeagled on the sofa, you don't mess with him. You just go and sit meekly on the chair that's about as comfortable as a spike, and look happy about it.

Mornings in the bathroom are alternately hilarious and disastrous. One of us is in the shower, whilst another is having a wee and the last is cleaning their teeth. Then we rotate, each trying to cover our bodies with towels or flannels (or sometimes the cat if she has wandered in) - particularly Tween, whose embarrassment is so obvious that you can occasionally smell it. It only takes one of us to slip, and we all topple over like dominoes. Including the cat.

We can survive about ten days with each other before we all go absolutely bleedin bonkers, at which point it is time for them to go to their Dad's for the weekend, and I sit on the sofa with a cold flannel on my forehead, in the dark, for a few hours - until the panic subsides. After which, I get up and shriek with joy, whilst running through the house flinging my arms out, celebrating the fact that I'm touching no one. Not even the cat, who by this time has jumped ship and hidden in the neighbour's shed.

About a day of peace and space and quiet is left, and then....

it starts all over again.


  1. Hahaha! That's hilarious Lottie! I expect I'm going to be in the same boat someday. Hubs was 6'5" in his prime, and my boys have consistently landed in over the 90th percentile for height...we have higher ceilings though. ☺️

    1. Hi Liv - thanks for your comment. Can we please come and move in with you??! xx


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