It’s Not My Place to Say.

Anything regarding the pure and utter bloody laziness of my redheaded step-sister-in-law. She is nearing thirty years of age, admittedly some of those years are negated due to the lack of brain cells she has. But. Really. You gotta work with what you got. Or at least be made to work with them. I do believe that girls ability could have been nurtured and progressed into a more functioning human being.

Progressed even to the point that she could maintain herself in a self-contained living environment. As long as someone took care of her money [and not in a greedy, thieving way] and made sure her bills were paid, she’d do okay. And Honestly what sort of life does she really have, surely you would wonder if there was not more to IT. Surely.

But as it stands somebody will have to be responsible for her when her mother passes on. At one time I did sincerely believe those some bodies would belong to the LittleFatBastid and I. But after living here for nigh on six months. I think know that’s not in our future plans.

Besides I really don’t believe she would like nor handle the expectations we would have of her.

1. Get out of bed before 10am. See we are not unreasonable, it’s still a good sleep-in period. Albeit not nearly as good as her 3.15pm rising when her Moms not home. The LittleFatBastid and I [when we have reached a gut-full of doing everything] play a game of dobbing her in without really dobbing her in. Heh Heh. Sneaky amusement doth soothe the savage beasts.

2. Set the table before any table meals, allowing for everyone’s taste in condiments and cutlery. Yes, yes. The Aussie likes to eat hers with a fork AND knife. Something about that endless sawing with the forks side doesn’t appeal to me…If ever I knew a family who needed to know about sporks, this is the family…And while we are at it, let me show you how to hold your fork in a more useful way when having to utilise both knife and fork. Then again, I’d have to re-teach yer mother and father as well, must be in the gene’s, that fist-holding-fork mannerism. Maybe it was a monkey hillbillie-see-monkey hillbillie-do thingo. The LittleFatBastid doesn’t hold his cutlery like that, then again he was raised by his grandparents and Uncle/Aunt in a home and age where table manners were pretty much taught and adhered to…and thank buggery they were.

3. Do her own laundry. And when done take it to her room, not leave it in a basket downstairs to be mistakenly washed over again. And while we are at it, being the almost-total shut-in that she is, there is not really a need to change her clothing as much as she does. It’s not like she does anything to get dirty in them anyway.

4. Occasionally pack the dishwasher and ALWAYS turn it bloody well ON when she has. Then when it has finished move it back into place not just move it backwards and forwards out of the way to various drawers and cupboards…[One night we heard it moved this way THREE freaking times. Can you bloody believe that! Mind you, one of those times can be attributed to the father-in-law. Haha]

*whoosh* Okay. I’m all better now. Again.

Happy Trails To Meee.