I am told chaos results when the world changes faster than the people in it and, whilst the uneasiness caused by global chaos is reputed to allow the opportunity for creativity and growth, chaos in my kitchen seems to be causing nothing but confusion and angst.
It is mid morning and my grandson and daughter are attempting to make a crumble with fruit they have picked from the garden while calling on my expertise, constantly, to help them.
My youngest son, furious to find someone has been using his Uno cards again, communicates his indignation by way of a walky talky at full volume that picks up passing police transmissions at the same time.
My husband who was, until summoned by our eldest son, mid point of yet another Internet based job application, stands silent and hovering in the doorway in readiness to fulfill a “no notice” request for a lift to the cinema.
The same sixteen year old son is attempting to procure the Orange Wednesday code from my phone whilst telling me to chill at my handbag invasion and show more respect when conversing with him.
I, on the other hand, while doing my best to both relay cooking instructions and referee the Uno card dispute, am endeavouring to communicate to my sixteen year old son the benefits of being less demanding of instantaneous social gratification and more responsive to the numerous tasks of educational importance that he has seen fit to neglect.
Getting nowhere with anything, but still with all eyes on me I decide to,
· ask my daughter and grandson to take a break from prepping the crumble and play Uno,
· ask my youngest son to switch the walky talky off and join in with the Uno game,
· tell my eldest son it is too short notice to go to the cinema and suggest he crack on with his list of more pressing issues.
This leaves my husband free to return to his CV and me exhausted, but with some semblance of order and an empty kitchen.
“Miracle Mum,”, some might say?
“Dictator and control freak,” they cry, while during all this, my husband stands silently by.