I am a housewife.
Its a thought that's been going round my head for a while, but I think it's now official.
I cook, clean, wash, work... I even organise the rest of my family into action and give them a sore ear when help is not forthcoming.
Odd behaviour for a seventeen year old, you might think.
As do I.
Surely, as a (supposedly) hormonal and (definitely) taking A-levels teenager, I deserve to lie around, doing very little to help and shut myself away in my room from time to time?
Surely?
But no, it appears not.
I'm not complaining. It's just the way I have been brought up - to organise things.
Ironic really, as I'm such a horrendous decision - maker.
If I lived in the 50s, someone would probably tell me I'd make an excellent wife one day.
But if my love life in the 50s were to be anything like it is at the present time, I doubt I'd ever find out if that's true.
So I'll just have to be a career woman I suppose. Sigh.
