What I REALLY need is a wife.
And I'm not talking any lesbian fantasty wife. What I want is a stay-at-home-scotch-when-I-walk-through-the-door-kids-bathed-and-fed-linen-smelling-like-fabric-softener-1950s kind of wife.
Don't get me wrong. The winemaker is a fine partner is so many ways. He's smart, and funny, and handsome and he really does do his fair share of the cleaning, cooking and kid-wrangling (if I'm being really honest, he probably does more than his share of the cleaning. Domestic Goddess I am not).
The thing is, we both like things to be neat and orderly. Problem is, while we fall back on the excuse of young children and work, the truth is we are both fundamentally disorganised and lazy.
A friend commented recently that our house looked a little like a student house. This kind of shook me up. Don't get me wrong, I wasn't offended, but It hit me that, at 42, it really was time I had furniture that matched, and maybe some nice paintings on the wall..
And, as I mentioned in a previous post, it is time to stop the clutter invasion, sort out the house and start to live like a grown up.
But it would be so much easier if I had a wife.