Saturday, March 21, 2009
Last night my daughter ran screaming from her bedroom after discovering a cockroach having a party with some old mates in her schoolbag. Wearing one of those helmets with a light attached and bearing a canary in a cage, I bravely entered the room to be poleaxed by the overwhelming stench of something fruity. Further investigations revealed a soggy apple and furry sandwich harvesting mutant spores in one of her many lunchboxes. After the requisite verbal spray, I surveyed the chaos at my feet and was filled with utter despair. You see the last time I tried to clean my daughter’s bedroom, the exercise took on all the logistics of an archaeological dig. Such is her pathological inability to differentiate ‘clean’ from ‘utterly filthy’ that I am convinced she suffers from a syndrome which warrants serious scientific investigation and classification. That way, when a parent starts to notice that their child has no sense of smell and registers abnormally high levels of adrenalin at the sight of a vacuum cleaner, one can stage an early intervention. It reminded me of share housing in 1988. Neil is the only person I've ever met that’s been able to strip down a Holley Carburettor and spread it across four hectares of floor space. In fact, his room proved he was a pioneer in the field of quantum messiness. His space was a hole of such infinite density that not even the light from his dusty lava-lamp could escape it’s gravitational pull. Amongst the fetid underpants, the empty tuna tins and the rancid bucket bong were washing machine parts, a hunting knife collection and a rumpled Credence Clearwater Revival poster. When challenged, Neil informed me somewhat imperiously, that it was all about ‘war preparedness’. It was important that he have all his things closely surrounding him should he ever be called upon to do night manoeuvres in the jungle. Riiiiight. In that case Neil, you’d better arm yourself with something more substantial than pizza boxes and an assortment of screws. By the way...your clothes basket asked me to report you to Amnesty International. I thought you should know.