Tuesday, January 11, 2011

Frustration

JUST ONE GOOD DAY PLEASE! Is that too much to ask? 

Yesterday. I finally arrived at the conclusion that it's not my job to clean, and the cleaner takes way too much advantage of me. I'm the au-pair, NOT the cleaner. Therefore, I'm refusing to clean rooms anymore. That however didn't go down too well with the cleaner when she arrived yesterday afternoon. She get's paid triple what I get, and she probably works a third of my hours. She works 12 hours per week. I work 5 days!!!! And I'm really getting my head down on my studies, and I do not have time to be cleaning which isn't in my job description anyway. The day time is my free time - I'm sick of the cleaner coming in and CALLING ME downstairs to help her. No. Sorry, wrong number. I have an exam. So we had a bit of a blow-up yesterday, and she went a bit mental at me for saying it was a really important exam 'de ma vie'. She seemed to think I should be cleaning all the girls' rooms, the spare room/playroom, and the bathroom upstairs. I don't know where she got THAT from, but I've never cleaned the playroom. And look - CLEAN = CLEANER. Argh. So she's being really mature now and not talking me. OooOoh Scary!

And then the grand finale. Yesterday evening. To be honest, it could have been worse: I could have witnessed it. I arrived down this morning to find shards of glass over every surface and vessel in the kitchen, smattered with chocolate. It does not take Einstein to work out the situation. Another clue was the microwave door left open. (These girls do not shut doors. Ever.) I've mentioned before that these girls are chocoholics. Major chocoholics. They'd put Willy Wonka to shame. I never buy chocolate or Nutella or chocolate powder, because it just GOES. They INHALE it! And they melt it, eat it out of the jar, cook it, lick it, break it up and put it on other food, have it for breakfast, put it on toast, biscuits.... So I'm thinking you're starting to guess what happened. William bought dark chocolate this weekend. Margot decided she wanted a chocolate drink. 

'Glass' and 'microwave' should never be used in the same sentence, let alone in the same room. But I would have LOVED to see Margot's face when she pulled the glass of melted chocolate out of the microwave, dipped the spoon in and then suddenly it was blown to smithereens. (It smashed when she took it out of the microwave.) Just so long as I was out of the way, behind bullet proof glass and protected. What a joy to find all this downstairs this morning though. And she'd just left it. I opened the cutlery drawer (how the hell it managed to get in there!) and everything was just covered in glass, and melted-then-hardened chocolate. So that was my morning. The cleaner doesn't know how lucky she is!

Tip: NEVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER EVER put glass in a microwave. It results in a lot of cleaning up. 

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