You may not know that my nineteen year old son, Grizz, has come back home from Uni for the summer?
He's been back home for about a month.
There have been a couple of tantrums.
It's worse when I wake him up too early by trying to wash HIS dishes from the night before in MY kitchen sink.
By too early I mean anything before 1 in the afternoon!
...Now he kind of brings his girlfriend back on a night or so a week too.
My living room is not mine own.
Ditto the telly.
I can't remember when I last watched something I wanted to watch...
I love having him here, but it's also a bit bizarre, as he's returned to form and acts like a Baby Bird with his beak open waiting to be fed, even though he's more than capable of cooking for himself, as he does the rest of the year at Uni.
Mind, he's moving out to his privately-rented, bijou two-bedroomed flat with a student friend in August, (they know one another from school and he's from a fabulous family, I've met his mother so I am comforted it's going to be fine...).
The downstairs Victorian garden flat is situated in a posh part of the city but very near to a green space.
Beloved of students and its residents alike. I'd describe it as a lovely, 'chi chi' area of town - with greenery and trees, cosmopolitan coffee bars, conventional drinking holes, restaurants and pretty little 'lifestyle' shops that sell haute fashion, fripperies, and Cath Kidston to yummy mummies.
I looked in a second hand jewellery boutique there only the other day and the prices almost made my eyes melt.
I'm wondering when I can move in??!
Oh, it's Fhina by the way...