More kitchen - the living room

 More kitchen - the living room

In the kitchen is where all the food was prepared. I would make cups of tea and wonder if my mum and dad would simply die of thirst rather than make themselves a cup of tea as They always wanted one but never got up to make one. It Is in his kitchen that I prepared bananas and custard for my mum and dad and I find that they actually wanted it hot but I wasn’t to know I chopped  bananas and added custard and served it I didn’t know that the custard was meant to be hot. To their credit they did eat it, but not until after they had complained and so the damage was already done. I hated all the food I ate in this house although after school home alone I would often invent things in the kitchen to eat making up concoctions from what I could find here or steal from the supermarket. Otherwise my mother always cooked although I did prefer it when dad cooked, which was rare, but happened and he’d usually do faggots and chips. Which was much, much better, a big improvement on mums liver and bacon or ‘steak’ and kidney pie although I quite liked suet puddings . Mums favourite dish was dripping on toast. I remember pouring tea on cereal so it was like hot milk but it was a cup of tea poured onto the cereal. Sugar sandwiches or sugar on open sandwiches so just sugar on bread. I hated the offal-based diet and I hated bread-and-butter pudding and I hated the time that mum made cottage pie from a heart. It Was generally filthy there was stains on the walls.

Meals were eaten in the living room. so they were carried to through the dining room, down the hall past the fridge, past the wardrobes and then into the living room. Here dirty plates piled high stacks of them rickety steps of plates and knives and forks and leftover food piled high beside each other chairs as each music and the plate would be put down on the floor beside the chair I know I never took it back out the kitchen because dad couldn’t because he’ll be afraid of breaking something deliberately mum would non-protest because dad wasn’t doing it to me when I was a child and then the next day another pipe with the food will be getting a place on top of yesterday’s place and so on through the week probably until the weekend when most house work would be done. Washing could be taken out of the shed to be washed in the washing machine plates could be taken into the kitchen to be washed and later loaded into a dishwasher as the time I was about 14 things became much more more than we had a dishwasher I want the plumbing in with mum we got the dishwasher and we attach it to the pipes in the kitchen and flooded the floor and remember paddling around on the floor and mum said it got better with the water got warm.

So here with the cat shit we ate our dinners and here with the cat shit and the dirty plates we watch the telly and I’d ignore the smell of the shit so that I wouldn’t have to be the one that has to clean it up.

Here too the walls are white washed and there were occasional posters and the furniture was more fun than functional because of my mothers penchant for novel things. so the floor had a tiger rug on it, not a real tiger obviously - a polyester one and the camel, Sopwith. it was a kind of bean bag seat. there was a chess set on the coffee table but all the pieces were broken as mum used them as weapons against dad. and the later sofa seats that replaced the very very old broken ones were a sort of crushed velvet in blue and had recliners but all of the side fabrics were ripped and never mended.