What pisses me off: Being home for tradies

What pisses me off is my generally presumed role of being the convenient, no longer in the paid work force, reliable woman of the house.

This “the buck stops with mum” tag remains, especially when it comes to letting tradesmen in. AAARGH!

I do object to my time not being considered as I arrange mutually convenient times (what a joke!). I do not like having to answer some of the questions they ask, nor do I like simply being around like some dim sort of mother abbess, phaffing around, offering copious cups of tea and basically babbling. I always have to turn my radio station (774) off too. Not that I could hear it amid the vocal enthusiasm and industry.

In a new house, I have endured window tinters, fly screen replacements, outside awnings, inner blinds, toilet tinkerings and today, electricians. Yep, a surge of sparkies descended on my roof eager to save us from the hell of halogen lights and transport us to the league of earth saviours.

Dear reader, it was an early start, but I was dressed and ready for the onslaught. Himself escaped. I retreated to the kitchen for a raid on my secret supply of Lindt balls but one lusty young man was already perched on his ladder cheerfully unaware of his domination of my domain. Chocolate and medication denied, I retreated, with the outraged cats, to my study. But not for long!

These tradies are new age and sensitive. They are here to help but I am falling down in doing my bit. You see, I can’t find a requested brush and shovel. I only have one of those long handled thingies.

Leaving my retreat I trail to the laundry but I am shadowed by big hulk as we hunt the wretched thing down. He recoils at the sorry sight that I daily resolve to deal with (but don’t) and pats me on the shoulder, assuring me it will be okay. I am not to worry. Shoulders sag further.

Morale lifts when I locate the dust-buster. It is not charged. I mumble insincere apologies. Smiles all around.

Next I am asked which lights to replace and what colour? HTF do I know?! Like a desperate game show entrant perilously close to the prize, I hold the last link, I can ring my husband!

Shame faced, I did, as they waited and I summoned a weak simper. The girlish charm has long gone and, in any case, not effective here. They know! They’re onto me.

It’s cold. The heater cannot be turned on (men in the ceiling and all of that) I feel a need for the bathroom. We have no lights. Through the blackened room I grope walls, pass the shower screen and step on an errant cat. Can I be further demoralised; in my own home? Mutely I send a prayer to the saint of Kugel exercises and ignore the cat. A daughter left him here anyway.

Yep. Sure can be further demoralised.

Lunchtime looms and I am peckish. A genuine need for comfort food here. Thoughts of pie tempt and I recall days of tradies heading off for pie and coke. (I still remember fish & chips in newspaper too!) Maybe I can place an order. The apprentice goes first. I wait, surely I can request sustenance with preservatives too!

The apprentice returns, with sushi. It was all too much! I retreat to the study and reflect. Finally I decide I am pissed off. Ever since I was a student living at home, I was the designated one to stay home when a tradesman was to call.

Today’s lot are truly delightful, efficient, cheerful and clean. I am the old curmudgeon lurking in the lair that is my study, waiting for them to go.

And finally they do! Work shall resume after Cup Day. They shall ring and organise a time… Gah!!

Oh, and they are now heading off to the gym…..

I’m keen to hear from others… have you had a similar experience and does it piss you off too??