There’s something nice about when you wake up on a drizzly cold morning and there’s a warm body snuggled next to you, even if the body is furry and under your armpit. Jack the cat will blink his eyes sleepily at me as if to say, “Still early, let’s lie in some more..” but he’ll get up and follow me everywhere the second I get up off the bed.
Weekdays, the house is quiet. The floorboards will creak as I walk around. It’s a sound that’s both familiar and not, at the same time. I don’t deny how it makes me feel at home, the smallest things do. Most days, the skies are grey and sometimes wet, a far cry from the blazing heat and blueness that I’m used to, but somehow, the greyer skies make me feel happier.
I drink my morning tea with a cigarette, and Jack purring between my knees and thinking about what I will be cooking for my charges when they get home.Dishes, laundry, the cat and all manner of domestic things will occupy my time until then.
Come three o’clock, sometimes three oh five, the quiet warmth that the house has been wrapped in will be broken with excited yells and screams. Their schoolbags will be dumped at my feet, jackets shoved into my arms, and one of these cheeky boys will be hanging off me like a monkey asking me a thousand and one questions, most of which I’ll never answer, because he asks me in such rapid succession.
The two boys will turn the carefully cleaned house into a mess within minutes. Because of them, I’ll be in the kitchen until it’s time to tuck them into bed at eight thirty. In between, their parents come home, Mom first.. and she’ll have the best of the day’s gossip with her, and we’ll watch the soaps and eat chocolates and she’ll moan about how her pregnant belly is about to burst. Dad’ll be excited to show me the day’s downloads and what he has planned for the evening’s photoshop lessons.
The best part of the day comes when the boys are in bed and after they’ve said their prayers, time to kiss them good night. The older one just found out about cooties and thinks it’s uncool, and after a tiny amount of resistance will allow it anyway. The younger one always wraps his arms around my neck and hangs on, as if that will stop me from turning off the light.
Admittedly, when the boys have gone down for the count I’ll miss them, just a tiny bit. When the cuckoo downstairs says it’s midnight, I’ll cosy up in the covers and wait for the rapid and soft pitter patter up the stairs.. and the tiniest of creaks from my door, and Jack will make himself comfortable at my feet. This furry foot warmer is really something.
