Who Wears The Jeans In Your House?

Growing up in our house was always eventful.

There was always something going on, and I can’t remember a day when our home wasn’t filled with neighbours, or family chatting with endless cups of tea in their hands. Keeping an eye on everything, of course, was my Mother – and she was a force to be reckoned with, still is!

When I was 21, I moved out and rented a flat. At first it was great… my own space, nobody to boss me about or tell me when to go to bed. I visited my parent’s often, infact weekly, with a pile of washing. Funny how your first washing machine always seems to be faulty lol. It was my flat, my life and my rules. I wore the jeans in my Man Cave and nobody could tell me what to do – or so I thought.

After a few epic parties and a month of 24/7 nightlife, I began to realise that my lifestyle wasn’t as great as I thought it was. My flat was a wreck, and I looked like s**t. So I called my Mother for help. What I had actually done though, was given her my jeans to wear!

Within a week, my flat was cleaned up.

I had my washing machine fixed and my landlord given a promise of regular payments. My extensive drinks collection had been ‘re-arranged’ and there was now a vase with fresh flowers where my Playstation had once sat. My bedroom now sported a shiny wooden floor and my toilet was a place of santuary. This may seem amazing to you, but for me it was just like being back home. I had given over control of my life to my Mother – and she was only just getting started.

During the next few months she had practically moved in.

So had a few of my Aunties, who would pop round every few days for tea and a chat. I started to spend more time in my bedroom so I could get some peace. Eventually I could take no more so sat down with my Mother and pleaded with her to back off a bit. It wasn’t long before my flat started to show signs of my lifestyle again.

Then I met Sarah.

After a short while dating, Sarah moved in with me. We spent nights in front of the TV watching endless box sets, had epic parties and basically tore the roof off the flat. I never even noticed the little changes that were happening to me and my flat however. My first clue was a vase of fresh flowers on the kitchen table. Then my drinks cabinet was re-arranged. Finally I noticed that my games collection was organised in alphabetical order.

Mother was back!

I confronted Sarah and she confessed that she had gone to her seeking help as she didn’t know how to cope with my messy way of living. At first I was annoyed, but eventually had to admit that I was a walking calamity! I gave up my ‘bachelor lifestyle dream’ and offered to change my ways. It was hard at first, but I now realise that my Mother and Sarah were only trying to help me. I wasn’t coping well by trying to do everything my way. We all need help in our lives to point out our errors or tidy up our lifetyles.

I didn’t give up all my ‘jeans’ though.

I still make a mess in my room and leave socks, shoes and food plates on the floor, but I do appreciate that others have to live around me, so I make the effort from time to time. Sharing your life with family, friends and loved ones should be a compromise.

Nobody should have complete control of the jeans and once you learn to share responsibilities – and put others first – life without the rule of denim can be fun 🙂


  • <cite class="fn">Happy Harry</cite>

    Similar thing happened to me mate. Got a flat, lived like an idiot, moved back in with my mum and dad. Huge mistake. Spent all my money on nights out and holidays and got stuck at my parents house for nearly 5 years!!!!! Finally moved out, bought a flat, got a girlfriend and now she wears the jeans lol Great blog btw 🙂

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