Right, it's late (i.e. the wrong side of Britain's Got Talent), my back is aching like a mo fo and, to be honest, I need my bed. So forgive me if this post is brief, but that's the way this one is gonna roll.
We've cleared four whole days of our Ramadan Kindness challenge now and today's was an understated but pretty bloody lovely act on behalf of the Yardimci boys.
I don't know about where you are in the world but in Brixham today the sun was shining and the skies were clear blue. I love this type of day for many reasons - flip-flops and ice lollies somewhere near the top of the list - but there is one particular reason why I DON'T like this offering from Allah / God / whoever's in charge of the sun. Basically, because you can always rely on the sun streaming through your windows to reveal just how shamefully dirty your house really is.
And mine really was.
Anybody who knows me well will know I'm pretty damn good at tidying. But cleaning? Well that's a whole other thing. Bathrooms and kitchens I can keep on top of but when it comes to dust and crumbs and various other crushed up shit that my Lads see fit to liberally scatter around their abode, I feel like I'm fighting a losing battle.
Today, however, that sunshine told me to get my act together.
So I did. With the help of my boys.
Yes, we could have trotted round the street with cakes and ice cream for all of our neighbours. Yes, we could have whizzed into town to sing uplifting songs to the people of Brixham. And yes, we could have (the suggestion of Big Lad) knocked on people's doors and offered to teach them 'The Floss'. But sometimes, just sometimes, kindness needs to begin at home.
So I put the Yardimci Lads to work. Cleaning, vacuuming, watering plants, washing dishes - all done without even the slightest whinge, moan or even a mock swear word (Little Lad is obsessed with saying 'SHIP!', much like Big Lad's earlier toddler days of repeating 'FACK!' at the top of his voice). They even took it on the chin when I suggested slight improvements on their various cleaning methods e.g. perhaps not flooding the kitchen when rinsing dishes and maybe actually touching the woodwork with the cloth rather than skimming over it with a fancy flick of the wrist.
(I could say that having the Lads help me round the house was actually detrimental to the point of getting the job done and that my back is now killing me because I ended up doing twice what I'd normally do when going solo. I could say that. But that would sound a tad ungrateful, wouldn't it? So, you know, I'm not even going to go there)
Especially when, as just now, as I was tucking the Lads into bed with a movie, they insisted I first sit down on the bed whilst they give me a double-whammy massage. Little Lad standing above me and digging his thumbs into my shoulder blades, and Big Lad strewn horizontally across the bed pounding my spine with his fists. Sounds akin to Chinese Water Torture, I know, but take it from me, it actually weirdly worked.
Just another day at the Yardimci household.
Maybe tomorrow we'll take our kindness out of the front door - who knows?
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