As university exams come to a close, our empty nest will soon be filled with the return of our beloved sons. It’s been a full academic year without them, and while we’ve managed to keep our household intact, there’s a certain oddity that has settled in during their absence. We’ve developed a strange habit of spending our leisure time in armchairs by the garden door, mimicking the old hecklers, Statler and Waldorf from the Muppets, and disparaging the local bird population. It’s an amusing pastime, but I can’t help but feel awkward at the thought of our sons overhearing our frivolous banter.
As for housekeeping, things have taken a sharp downturn. We’re lucky if we manage to do one load of laundry a week, and our closets are as sparse as my father’s were during my university days. The only food that seems to be flourishing in our home is that which is meant for the birds, which is ironic given our recent fascination with culinary expertise. We’ve become experts at critiquing the latest “cuisson” on MasterChef Australia, but have no plans of putting our newfound cooking skills to the test.
It’s becoming apparent that we need the return of our sons to shake us out of our peculiar routine and back into the realm of normalcy. Our odd habits and lackadaisical approach to domestic life need some filial guidance if we hope to salvage our sense of civilization. Fingers crossed we’re not too far gone!
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