“There is no love like the love of a mother.”
Today I thought I’d dedicate my blog to my wonderful amazing mother.
I did not write yesterday because I was busy running errands with her. Sometimes going places with your mother and seeing what she has to do to keep everything together can really put things into perspective. I think most people underestimate the power and wit mother’s have, and their ability to love beyond boundaries and work beyond means. My mother has gone over and beyond endlessly to provide for us – don’t get jealous daddy, your turn will come – and I don’t think a million words could show her enough gratitude.
So back to yesterday. Investments are hard work. Especially when your tenant got brand new carpet and appliances when she moved in two years ago, but moved out with everything not working. I told her, “Mum, you need to include in the contract that all broken appliances must be replaced.” I wonder if they think money grows on trees.
As if that is not enough; layers upon layers of MUCK were caking up on the wall behind the washing machine, the stove top was not white anymore, the disposal for the sink was clogged, the carpets were super stained, the fans and doors were greasy, the oven had never been cleaned (it has a self cleaner you know, all you have to do is press a button), and apparently someone – or something – thought the back veranda was a toilet. Really? Who pees in their own backyard?
Needless to say, much KUDOS to mum for cleaning all of this. I am fully aware that it is our property, but personally, I am not a big fan of cleaning up other people’s messes – and that goes for everything. Of course, had she woken me up to go help her, I would have had to hold my nose, tie myself up in a garbage bag body-suit, with gloves on my hands and plastic bags on my feet, and go in like the place is quarantined. Thank you mother dearest for the germophobe quality.
By the time I went, which was yesterday, the walls were freshly painted, the ceiling – fans and light included – was pressure cleaned, and the bathrooms were scoured. All that was left to do was press that lovely self-clean button on the oven, and clean the top of the stove. (By the way, I had no idea you could lift up the top of a stove.)
Well, that was only one investment; and poor mummy has been cleaning up after others for far too long. I need to hurry up and graduate. It is time for someone to start cleaning up after her – and that is probably not going to be me.