The Truth about Goats
There is a growing suspicion that your bedroom may soon be converted into an office come gym stroke sauna, with ample space for a vintage bar. This paranoia has not been helped by the presence of a new stud wall, a theodolite and charming Polish lodger, called Kacper.
While your parents have been cagey about the changes, it is certainly odd that there is now a deadlock on the door and that your bed has been replaced with a foosball table. Your name has been expunged from the electoral register and the cat is giving you the cold shoulder.
Phrases like ‘projector screen’ and ‘mini-fridge’ have been bandied around the breakfast table, while there also been heated discussions about the merits of a sewing room over an exotic boudoir – although Mum’s preference is still for somewhere to put her dartboard.
This aesthetic of the room is certainly now compromised by the presence of a bidet, a ping-pong table and a ceiling hook, which makes Dad blush every time you mention it. The whole situation is very unsettling but as Mum pointed out, you are forty-six.