Posted on Friday, August 31, 2012
in Family, Rantings
If there’s one thing that scares me more than men with guns or Jehovah’s Witnesses, it’s social workers.
This young wan called ’round recently, jaysus the house stank. The cat had shat in the bath and the dog hair was everywhere. I hadn’t even had a chance to finish my first cup of coffee of the day, and I was fierce bedraggled answering that door. Children seemed to be everywhere, but when she walked in they lined up as though it were a staged musical… it would have been perfect if the director hadn’t been so feckin’ cranky.
She sauntered in and looked for somewhere to place her files, I directed her to place them neatly on the dog, for he was the only thing that didn’t have stuff on it at the time. She did so without batting an eyelid, fair play to her.
She wanted to find out if our housing situation was suitable for us as a family, so I showed her around our tiny kitchen (God love her) and introduced her to the chaos of the bedroom that my 7 year old girl and 2 year old boy try to share. Laughingboy’s batchelor pad was next, but given that his quarters take up the majority of the rest of the house, she seemed happy with his living conditions.
But what point is there in his having adequate living conditions when the rest of us are going insane?
We pointed out that there was a house nearby that is presently empty. It’s adapted for a disabled person, and has four bedrooms. It has a decent kitchen, in which there is room to flip a pancake which would make a nice change. We wondered if we could possibly move into it?
Social worker lady told us that no, that this house has been allocated for travellers, which means that only travellers can move in to it.
So how can I become a traveller? I asked. She laughed nervously. I laughed hysterically.
As she walked out, I noticed the screensaver on our computer… it flashed the following image;
She did a double-take.
But by then the image had moved on to an idyllic family group photograph and I presume she imagined that she’d been seeing things.
I imagine she went home for a stiff one.