Cliffy is in Fine Form.

It hit me like a thunderbolt this weekend but Cliff
is turning me into his mother. I don't know when it
began but over the past three weekends it has been
quite obvious.

Three week ends ago, he gave me his R.S.L. card
'to mind for him.' As soon as we got home I gave it
back. It was just a 'paper' temporary card till his
new plastic card arrives.

Last week end he wanted to do garage sales on Saturday
and I did not but he came and woke me up demanding to
know what I had done with his car keys. He claimed to
have searched the house for an hour but could not find
them esprecailly as they were not were he ALWAYS keeps
them, hence I MUST HAVE MOVED THEM.

Of course once he woke me I had to go to the toilet and
there sitting on the coffeee table was a set of car keys
(That is not where they are suppose to be) and I picked
them up and asked if they were the ones he was looking
for (He has two cars). He looked and said 'no the other
ones'. I walked into the bathroom and sitting on the
vanity unit was the other set of keys so I picked them
up and said "these?"
"Is that where you left them?" he asks.
My reply "Considering I did not drive your car on Friday
then no, perhaps when you came home Friday night you
rushed in to go to the toilet and left them there?"
He looked sheepish, BUT I DID NOT GET AN APOLOGY!!!

Then last Friday night at the R.S.L. I gave him back
his mobile phone that he had lent me, see "Worse
Friday Ever" as he had been complaining all week
about my not giving back the phone.

He also won a roast in the raffle that night.

Saturday afternoon he asks me "Where is the roast?"
"I don't know" I said. "You had it" he says.
"No" says I. "Don't tell me you left it at the club"
he says. "No poppy" chimes in Kirsten "You took it
to the car I saw it."

We troop out to the car sitting in the 30 degree heat
and sure enough there is the roast sitting on the
floor in front of the passenger seat.

Well it was only good enough for the dogs by then.
His response was "Why did he have to be responsible
for EVERYTHING."

On Sunday he demanded to know where the mobile was. It
was still sitting on the car dash board where he had
left it on Friday night. Turns out you can not only
drown a mobile phone but you can fry them as well!
Of course that was my fault too.

That was when it hit me. Adults look after their own
shit and I have enough of my own thank you very much.
I'm not his mother why do I have to mind his shit
as well?? Why if he mucks up do I have to take the blame?