Oh the neighbours must love us.
Not only have their peaceful days been affected by sawing, drilling, banging, swearing and all the rest of it from our lovely band of builders, but they now have to endure indecent exposure of the most graphic nature.
It all stems from a frosted piece of glass that, to put it simply, just ain't frosted enough. If it were in the kitchen, wouldn't be a problem. If it were, in fact, in any other room, other than the bathroom, it would be ok. Even in the bathroom wouldn't be quite so bad, were it not full length and right next to the shower. And overlooking next door's garden.
We had our suspicions as soon as it was fitted. These suspicions were later put to the test, when I asked hubbie to stand in front of the window, while I pegged it down to the garden and peered up. My gasp of horror must have said it all, as I witnessed not only the 'vague outline' of my husband, but every last detail, down to the zipper on his top and the buckle on his belt. Visions of him soaping himself up enthusiastically in a substantially reduced number of garments flashed through my mind, closely followed by the image of our next door neighbours sitting innocently at their patio, sipping their early morning coffees, then looking up and dropping dead of shock on the spot, at what could only be described as a suburban porn show.
As a result, the following day (after having had the most tentative of showers, crouched right inside the bathtub like some sort of rolled up hedgehog, then leaping as swiftly as possible into my dressing gown, all the while eyes fixed to the window for any sign of movement from next door's garden) I had to hasten to B& Q to invest in a pvc blind.
Not quite the look we were going for. But the BFG happily passed the buck, saying it was 'the craziest patterned glass' he could get, ergo I had to sort it. And fast.
I literally cannot tolerate the thought of our extremely nice neighbours witnessing my pasty naked form in the morning. Nope.
However, indecent window that wouldn't be out of place in the red light district of Amsterdam aside; the building is coming on a treat. It's NEARLY there. Oh so nearly! This time next week, hopefully everything should be complete and the builders should have left the premises. Not that I've minded them too much, in a way it's been quite nice to have the company, especially when I walk in to see them all dancing to 'Build Me Up Buttercup' on the radio. There is something exceptionally endearing about four grown men, bopping around like happy little children and singing along to a song that is as crap, and let's face it, girly, as Build Me Up Buttercup.
The bifold doors have finally arrived and been fitted, and look an absolute treat. Though did I mention...they allow the next door neighbours to see directly into our kitchen? I have visions of them first being scared to death by husband cleaning himself in the shower, and then being scared a second time by his dressing gown flapping about with gay abandon as he makes his morning toast and marmalade in the kitchen. Not to mention when he spreads himself out in front of the window with his newspaper, unaware that his gown has fully become dislodged...
Oh god. They are going to be convinced we are perverts and that we built the house deliberately that way! Argh!!
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