Monday, August 24, 2009

Jittery skittery

So much to much to obsess about...and the two, of course, are mutually exclusive. As some of you pointed out in the comments on my last post, this five day cooling off period is killing me! Every time the phone rings, I think, they're pulling out. The surveyor came yesterday and I dogged the poor man's footsteps. 'Found anything yet? You're spending a long time there, nothing wrong is there? OMG, what's that?!' In the end, of course, he found only one major thing, which is the one we've lived with for five years and will fix if the buyers ask us to - on the other hand, they may just choose to live with it too.

And as for the job...yup, still waiting...torture, torture, torture.

In the meantime, it is left to Princess to provide you with amusement. Last night she woke up with a nose bleed. She chose not to rush to Mummy and Daddy to let them know, she chose to take care of it 'all by me self'. Which meant, instead of walking along the short corridor to our room and a waiting box of tissues, she took the long walk along the other corridor to the little loo for a roll of toilet paper. She showed me this morning how she'd cupped her hands to catch the blood, and the unfortunate little gap between them that she couldn't quite close. The toilet paper being judged inadequate, she walked back along the corridor, tottered down the stairs, still with her little cupped hands, and then realised she couldn't open the door to the family room, because she didn't want to get it all bloody from her hands. Thoughtful. So, instead, she took the long way round, through the formal lounge and dining room, still with her little cupped hands and quite the pool of blood in there by this time, and opened the sliding door with her foot. At which point she finally found a box of tissues that she felt met her requirements. She mopped up her nose, washed her hands. Then she went back to bed.

It was such a lovely surprise for Mummy and Daddy in the morning. A bloody trail leading throughout our home, along the corridor and back, weaving down the stairs, dribbling over all the white carpets...drips, handprints, footprints, the lot. It looks like a murder scene. (Princess was lucky that it didn't turn into one). And it's been a busy day of scrubbing for me.


Sarah Laurenson said...

In the house you're trying to sell or the new one?

Oy! Very funny from my geographic location.

Whirlochre said...

If this wasn't so funny, it would be a nightmare.

JaneyV said...

The house we rented when we moved first had cream carpets. My dog decided to have her first season while we were there. Let's just say that the effects were similar to princess's midnight nosebleed but it went on for three weeks.

I empathise - so very much.

Fingers still crossed for the job.

sylvia said...

Oh no! But think of the realism in your next violent scene.

Princess is so great.

blogless troll said...

Glad Princess is okay, but that is funny. Like some twisted Family Circus comic strip.

Robin S. said...

Oh, Princess! I'm thinking of the white carpets and the scrubbing, but also how brave she was, and she must have been feeling quite brave as well, in the night, handling this herself; a big girl.

And you guys waking up to a blood trail.

What a morning!

Only a few more days now, right? For the house to go through? And will ya know by Friday about the job? Stressful week, McK. Sorry about that!

Precie said...

Aw, poor Princess! I'm with Robin...quite a valiant attempt to be self-sufficient.

Um...status check...epicfail with no light at the end of the tunnel until December. See you in a few months.

McKoala said...

Princess is astonishingly self-sufficient. When she was three years old and wet the bed, she got up, took off her wet pyjamas, put on clean pyjamas, stripped the wet sheet off the bed, made a neat pile of wet clothes and then made herself a new bed on the floor with her pillows and duvet. She happily went back to sleep and we didn't know a thing about it until the morning.

She's a survivor!

pacatrue said...

I'm sending the B by for some self-sufficiency lessons from the Princess.