Michael: How would you like it, if I threw your hand mirror in the bin?
Me: I wouldn’t like it at all, now put it back in my bedroom please.
Him (waving the mirror menacingly): Then STOP putting my stuff in the bin.
Boys
What are we to make of this?
When I came home from work, Michael looked up from what he was doing and said, “Mum, the babysitter kicked me.” He then went back about his business. I protested feebly, “Don’t call O “the babysitter” Michael, she has a name.” And then I turned to O and asked “Ahem, did you, eh, you know, eh…” to which she said, no.
Nevertheless, the children have not taken a shine to her and, certainly, she is not as good as her predecessor who was terrific. But she seems ok. And she will be finishing in the next couple of months in any event to go back to France for the ski season. So, I suppose we will tough it out.
I discovered that the children have other plans. The boys’ teacher took me aside this morning. She said that the boys had told her that they were working on a secret plan developed by their sister. At her signal they were to scream and only to stop when she picked up the cat. I see a number of difficulties here including both the objection of the cat and the Princess’s choice of co-conspirators. Still, I am experiencing definite unease. This evening the Princess asked me why I can’t sack the babysitter.
Oh dear. Do you think that the babysitter will tough it out?
How Do Children Survive to Adulthood?
I found the mug that the children use for rinsing out after brushing their teeth on top of the toilet cistern. “Why is it there?” I asked the children. The Princess explained. Apparently the cleaner had used a new exciting and particularly foamy disinfectant in the toilet. Michael had used the mug to scoop out the foam and play with it. Words fail me.
Outnumbered
Last night, the Princess had a friend to stay. All the children went to bed at 9 o’clock. At 10.00 we trapped the boys in our bed and they finally went to sleep. At about 10.30 a very loud alarm in a local municipal facility went off. Phone calls to authorities led to the information that nobody could turn it off. The Princess and her friend came downstairs to complain about the noise. We said that they could sleep in our bed (at the back of the house). We transferred the sleeping boys back to their own beds from ours and in hopped the girls. At 11.30 we decanted the girls and were finally able to get into our own bed. We were delighted. True, four other people had already slept in it that evening, but parents have low standards.
Oh yeah, while we were waiting to get to bed, appropriately enough, we watched the DVD box set of “Outnumbered” which is distressingly accurate.
Is Everything Genetic?
Daniel: I’m the best in the class at Irish dancing.
Me: Good for you.
Daniel (after some reflection): The best except for S.
Me: Well, you know, S’s mother is a dancer, so you would expect him to be good at dancing.
Daniel: Am I good at what you do Mummy?
Me: Well, um, you probably have latent middle manager skills.
Virtual Reality
There has been much snow here recently. Instead of being excited about it and running out to play, the children have been unenthused, running into the house complaining of being cold. This is a far cry from my youth when we would scrape up every scrap of snow in the garden (never very much) to make a snowman.
You can imagine then my excitement the other day when Michael said, “Mummy, I want to play a game with a snowflake”. I replied, “Of course, sweetheart, let’s get your coat and your wellies on.” “No, I don’t want to play with a snowflake outside!” “But Michael,” I protested, “all the snow is outside.” “No, no, no, I want to play a game with snowflakes on the computer.”
