And yet, and yet, following on from the post about ‘my servant’ – despite the shame of that term to my ears – I do seem to have utterly assimilated the fact that here, everyone has a maid.
Even if it’s only for an hour a day to wash the floors and do the washing up (or as a busy working mother said to me, ‘just to wash the children’s tiffin tins, only’).
I know this is a luxury of my life here and also, as mentioned, a social responsibility. My father drilled that into me as child in Pakistan and Africa and all the other places he lived – good socialist he was – so you have to share the wealth, even if it makes you feel uncomfortable sometimes.
But perhaps I’ve got a little over used to it. On a recent trip to London, as I was watching my sister iron her work shirts, the words actually left my mouth ‘why don’t you get your maid to do that?’
My sister looked up sharply, ‘what maid?’
Oh yes. Maids aren’t common in London. And would be terribly expensive if you had one.
I backed carefully away.
If, as they say, looks could kill…
If you’ve enjoyed this post, why not read more about the ongoing trials and tribulations of employing a maid:
And do please comment below – you know I love it!