Dude, wheres my maid?
I do. I'm sitting right here.
That's right. The major adjustment to life in the US from my cushy high life of Bangkok is the housework.
I am my own maid now. Doing the dishes. Doing the laundry. Cleaning the bathrooms. Fixing meals (which actually I have become very fond of). Picking up around the house...and piling it elsewhere. Dusting? Once a year, may be.
So yes, there is still the little Thai princess in me, rebelling against all the manual labor American life requires of me. But so far, I didn't do all that bad.
Okay. I AM a spoiled little princess. When I was growing up, I had a nanny and a maid, plus the kitchen staff, groundskeeper and a driver. My household has since shrunken and the staff is now down to just two. But everytime I come home, I still savor the fact that I have help, that all my clothes are washed and pressed, that breakfast is ready when I wake up and I didn't have to clean up afterward.
Mater Dei School tried to instill some common sense into their privileged student body with home economics, after school classroom cleaning, and washing our own dishes at lunch. They tried to make us "normal". It worked. A little bit. At least I definitely knew how to do dishes and fry my eggs.
My American manager forced the paper towel and Windex from my hands as I was trying to clean up after an office birthday party once.
"Gimme that!" she said. "You clean like a little princess. It'll take you all day. Go back to your desk and let me finish this."
It's been 14 years since I came here on my own. I mean, when I first landed, I didn't ever know how to use the washing machine! Ironing was a home economic hands-on pop quiz. Doing dishes was something we did because we HAD to.
My mom tried to prepare me before I left for school then too. I had a few sessions with our laundry lady to learn to fold and press my cloths. (Still hate ironing, by the way.) I was sent to the kitchen to learn from our family cook. I watched how things were made, jot down the recipes, and even got a few stirs into the wok. But nobody would let me handle the knife or anything. I learned to cook, but I really didn't. You know what I mean.
Nowadays, my husband has to ask me what goes in the washing machine. And he is not allowed into the kitchen (only when he makes the garlic butter chicken) any more. I have turned into a quite a little Italian cook and an aspired baker.
How about Thai food, you ask?
Nah. I still leave that to the pros. We go out to Thai food once to twice a week.
See? You can't completely take the spoiled Bangkok brat out of a girl after all. :)
พิมพ์หน้านี้