I heard those words a lot when I was growing up. It was the standard cop out when clothes bought for me were two or three sizes too big.
As an adult, my mother gave me a tee shirt which was actually five sizes too big and large enough for two. Whether she was hinting about grandbabies or just got confused is still a mystery, but I wore it as a nightie for years.
This post isn’t about clothes though.
In October 2014, I wrote this and it is probably one of the truest statements I’ve ever made.
Our house sitting has just 10 more days left to run, and it has been an interesting experience, especially as we haven’t been live-aboard boaters all that long really.
I’m glad we closed off the upstairs lounge and second bedroom, choosing to ‘live’ in the kitchen, conservatory and front bedroom.
I jokingly said to MOH that we could fit our boat in the kitchen here. As it turns out, excluding the helm and bow areas, you could, and still be able to walk round it completely.
However, I had forgotten how untidy we can be when we haven’t got to put things away to do something else or sit down. We can leave cups to drain, or worse leave them in the bowl unwashed (!) until morning, and have accumulated clutter on the one worktop with Maggie’s food, our cereal and porridge packets, plus the pressure cooker.
Our coats were draped over the bannister instead of being hung up (this equates to 4, being our fleeces and bodywarmers) with our waterproofs on top.
In the front lobby, our shoes and jelly beans are holding court as we remove them rather than walk muddy footwear into the hall. We’re glad we purchased a cheap mat from the pound shop to wipe our feet as the black patch is on that, not on the carpet.
We are equally pleased that our tarp in the hall is also protecting the carpet from Maggie’s damp or muddy paws, even though we have wiped them with a towel before entering.
In the conservatory, our laptops are lurking on the coffee tables when not in use, my card making box is sitting on a chair, and we haven’t finished the puzzle which is still on the dining table surrounded by a variety of trays holding sorted colours and pieces. I haven’t touched the one upstairs.
In the bedroom, my book and hairbrush sit on the bedside table alongside a clock, ioniser and phone, and Hubby’s side is covered with pill packets, paperwork, and the TV remote.
We have a drawer each, a shelf and hanging space (my jeans and posh jumper) in the wardrobe, and our large holdall occupies the floorspace therein on the one side.
It is amazing how much we own, even if it’s not used, simply because there is space to store, hoard, or even put out on display.
We should be called the Jello Kids, or Amoeba and Co, as we are spreading out into the available space. Even Maggie is leaving chews and biscuits in the middle of the floor!