To the two sleek, grey cats I was a complete stranger who just walked into their house and took out a tin of cat food. They didn't seem to think anything was amiss, just told me loudly how hungry they were.
To the nice, middle-class neighbours in this nice, middle-class residential area, who all have pastel-coloured houses and 2.4 children playing in cute little gardens, I was definitely a complete stranger. I breezed in with a dodgy car, urban sunglasses and a foreign-looking man in tow for a two-week house-sitting. Instead of bringing two toddlers to the park and having a gossip with other mothers in mud-stained clothes, I stay inside typing on a laptop with manicured nails or take the car into town for a latte.
Staying in someone else's house, someone with a stereotypical family life, and my own, quite boring lifestyle suddenly seems eccentric.
1 comment:
Eccentric? Well, I find stormgazing pianopoets to be quite a natural phenomenon.
Housesitting? Now that's peculiar! Might be your ideal getaway, what with the feline company and not caring a quarter-of-a-hoot about what the neighbours think. Not to think of ze foreign-lookin' men...
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