I've just been sitting upstairs having lunch with my grandparents.

My grandpa who is Scottish is always calls me 'smout', which comes from the word smolt which is the word for a young salmon. Apparently the author Robert Louie Stevenson's grandmother used to call him smout and so my grandpa uses it for all his grandchildren. I've never heard it being used anywhere else. I wonder if my Scottish girl scarletnoir has.

My grandma looked at me sternly as I dipped my bourbon biscuit into my tea and said she hope I wasn't going to be offended by what she was about to say... I thought uh oh, whats coming now... and she announced:

"you are not a housewife"

which is according to my grandma a rather grave state of affairs for a young lady to be in. Which is rather humourous considering calling a woman a housewife for most people these days is tantamount to an insult.

She proceeded to explain that although a boy might like me and be in love, these things never last long and if a girl doesn't wash her dishes and keep her house tidy, the boy will definitely get fed up and and wouldn't it be a shame if somebody left me because I wasn't tidy enough and sufficiently domesticated.

She asked me with a look of horror on her face whether I would open somebody's fridge and help myself to the contents of it as I just did to hers. 'of course not' I replied adamantly, trying very hard not to smile.

Its strange being a woman these days. I have always felt that there is a housewife inside me screaming to get out.... being a typical cancer, I love being at home, love cooking and 'nesting' as my x used to call it, love fussing over a man, but simultaneously feel quite mortified about it as it's such a taboo, what with women nowadays spending their lives trying to keep up with men in terms of salaries and careers. You are made to feel that being a housewife is like giving up, deciding you are not good enough at anything else. But at the same time you are expected to be a goddess in the kitchen, to fuss over a man, to flawlessly run a house.

I love spending time with my grandparents. Their view of the world is so refreshing sometimes.

My grandma loves to talk about all her boyfriends during the war (she grew up in Austria and has numerous photographs of blonde Arian looking soldiers in SS uniforms). She was a right little minx. She still owns over 70 pairs of high heeled shoes. Even her slippers have heels.

I ask her for advise about my love life all the time. The other day I was asking her about what to do about Rashid...

'what should I do grandma? I think I like him... should I snog him?

'Don't be ridiculous' she replied... 'he should snog you!'

Right. Those dirty dishes in the sink are making me feel a little uneasy, I think I'm going to do a spot of cleaning.