There has been a recent upheaval in my life, a challenge a lot of women would not undertake, a change I was not sure how I would cope with - I have just moved into a flat of, god help me, two boys.
Only these aren't just any boys: these are 7:30 awakening, 10 hours a day working, binge drinking medic boys. And I must admit I adore them, after spending a year vetting them in halls at university, obviously.
I can't believe how easy my transition has actually been - we cook dinner (and surprisingly by 'we' I mean 'them' as I'm forever late coming in) and they have managed to refrain from most women=kitchen jokes. Magnus, however, sneakily manages to take advantage of the fact I don't enjoy burnt food ("students shouldn't have standards!") and after starting the process allows me to hastily take over as he distracts himself with something else. He is frequently compared to a goldfish.
In the first week of my living with the boys I did a huge washing of what one might call my 'delicates'. I was prepared to come home early to take them out of the machine and hang them up in my own room so as not to give the other two heart attacks. Can you imagine my shock when I cam home to find it all carefully hung up already in the hall. When questioning Magnus about this development he said: "Oh yeah, Saunders needed the machine..but I wouldn't talk to him about it, it was all a bit distressing, he wasn't sure about thong-hanging ettiquette." Naturally I managed to thank Saunders without turning it into a long winded conversation, but still avoided his laughing gaze and hurried into my own room, hoping he wouldn't ask me to do the same for his boxers.
I'm also learning a lot of male behaviourisms - during Wednesdays, which is movie night (and was fully male before my arrival), I have found it is not acceptable to talk during movies/ask explanations/ask for it to be paused for food/demand a chick flick. Of course, I'll get used to it - but it has made me realise how much our boyfriends put up with and not to expect the same pampering from our male friends (although I'm hoping to break one of them).
I can only express my surprise and delight at how I've managed to fit in and how welcoming my boys have been - I'll never get over coming home to a cooked dinner, running into my french knickers in the hall, or boy gossip at 3am after which I swiftly get thrown out: "Rach! Just because you don't have lectures doesn't means the rest of us aren't doing a real degree!"
Despite my bad influence I truly believe they appreciate the addition of soap to the bathroom.
Operation Bleach Boys starts today.
