A house boy...

Last night I popped round to see my landlord cum next door neighbour to give him some money... for the last week he has been pestering me about 'what on earth am I going to do about cleaning my flat?'. I had been putting him off on this one, however last night I realised that resistance was futile and that not employing the services of his 'boy' could be more hassle than its worth. So I have acquired a house boy. Which seems quite comedy to me, in the sense that I am sure I am more than capable of cleaning my flat... but never mind. Fortunately he will only appear once a week (although in saying that at 7.45am this morning he seemed to be sweeping outside my flat), apparently he will clean all the windows, floors, balcony etc etc...

Some interesting facts about the 'boy' (landlords words not mine).

• My landlord says he is 'like a son' to him. He also describes me as 'like a daughter'. Therefore in some ways perhaps my houseboy can be considered my brother?
• Pebar (the boy) is, according to the jacket he seems to live in, an 'American Ski Instructor', I shall have to be asking him for some tips on my parallel turns...
• Despite being called a 'boy', I am fairly certain he is well over 18 and that I am not engaging in the child labour market.