Are you looking for the most co-dependent relationship on the planet?
Look no further than your own kitchen.
Three years of life as a renter have given me a rather unique perspective on what it’s like being inside my mommy’s head. No, there’s no ‘adulting’ happening, but all of a sudden, a whole lot of verbal imprecations that framed my childhood are beginning to make sense. For instance, the way my mom would yell at the house help one day (much to my seven-year-old self’s chagrin) to the way she’d be simpering the next (much to my seven-year-old self’s bewilderment).
Whole new meaning of power play.
It took moving out and hiring a maid for me to realise: we ALL act the same way.
You see, your relationship with your maid is faaar more complicated than anything you ever had with your ex, and – if you aren’t too careful – won’t last longer than that bottle of phenyl she keeps refilling with tap water.
Here is a series of GIFs that perfectly defines the undefinable – your love-hate relationship with your maid:
Bye Bye, Slumber
You’ve probably figured out the millions of ways in which you can feign sickness and go in slightly late to work the next morning. You’ve probably gone to bed, drunk out of your ass at 3 am feeling positively triumphant.
You’re adorable. Your maid ain’t got no time for that s**t. She’ll be up and at ’em, crashing through your field of dreams and jammin’ at your doorbell like it’s a rock concert souvenir – totally oblivious to the looks of death. Pure death.
Hello, Second Mother
That scene from Kal Ho Na Ho, where Kanta bai walks in with tottering tray and shifty eyes? TOTALLY makes sense! How could Shah Rukh and Saif’s characters be soo naïve to imagine they could get away with cavorting (or look like they’re cavorting) when there’s a maid in the house?
Tsk tsk. Amateurs. Anybody with a maid and half their savings in this month’s rent knows you cannot get it on when you’ve got a half-mother in the house. She will look at said entity with suspicion and you will look like you want to be on a plane to Timbuktu.
That First-Salary Awkwardness
Nothing felt weirder. She’s older than you, more accomplished than you (she shooed away that lizard that kept you from going to the toilet) and she calls you beta. Pretty soon though, you realise she’s doing a job – just as you’re doing yours at the grand house of staples – and you begin to negotiate and distribute half-days and pay cuts in a way that would make your mother proud.
Marathon Cleaning Squad
Parents coming into town the morning after your house was Party Central? No problemo! Your maid’s your lifesaver.
I cannot count the number of times my disapproving-yet-conspiratorial maid has shoved bucketfuls of empty beer cans in a makeshift hole under my bed – winking at me all the while. I’m still trying to figure out if I’m impressed or scared.
Much Too Personal
You will learn to listen to a whole host of personal stuff with your coffee in the morning – ranging from what her whiskey-loving husband’s been up to, to what the neighbour’s son just got on to with his cousin. You will realise your active squirming and passive protests amount to nothing, and you will suddenly have newfound respect for your mum.
I’m Sorry, Please Come Back!
There isn’t another soul on the planet who can make you go from queen of hearts to helpless, crying puddle of goop. You will go from “Are you coming or not?” to “Pretty please, with sugar on top?” in a disturbingly short time.
Egos are not a thing for ze people who have maids.
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