I don’t understand where my darling children have gone, and why they’ve been replaced by havoc wreaking demons!
I mentioned the bomb going off in the living room toy box the other day, well this morning, after waking up with a headache and a cold, I was faced with a train set tripping hazard on the hallway, which just happens to be in between my bedroom and the bathroom.
After standing on two little trees, stubbing my toe on a train station and then tripping over the bridge, I knew I was all set up for a very bad day indeed.
After that the cat tried to kill me on the stairs, which is a usual morning ritual and I do sometimes wonder if she realises that if she did manage to break my neck, she would be less likely to get fed??
Then it was breakfast time… Everything seemed to be going fine, until I went into the kitchen to make breakfast and came back out to what can only be described as toy tsunami.
You must understand, that my house was literally built for borrowers (for anyone who is unaware, The Borrowers are a fictional family of tiny people) and so it doesn’t take many toys to make it feel cluttered and become a health hazard.
It must have been like watching a really bad acrobatics act as I tried to negotiate my feet amongst the dolls, bricks, a castle, cars and fancy dress costumes, whilst trying to carry two bowls of cereal and a mug of coffee… Foolish of me to assume that such a simple task could have been accomplished without disaster.
I stubbed my toe (the other one this time) on the coffee table and started mumbling profanities into my coffee as I sat down on the sofa and watched in awe as they started arguing over who got the blue spoon. No, it's not a magic spoon. It doesn't shoot fire out or play music or have the ability to make them eat all their cereal. It's just a blue, plastic spoon. I did not have the energy for this. (Starts banging head against wall.)
After all this, you’d think “Well things can’t get any worse can they?” You’d be wrong.
From chucking juice around the room, spilling tomato soup all over themselves and the table, to doing the Avon round and having them charging up and down peoples drives after specifically telling them not to, to the very glamorous plaster I’m now sporting after trapping my finger in a letter box, to them playing on the windowsill and nearly knocking the vase over, to them running round the coffee table and actually knocking everything over. I am ready for ending it once and for all.
I feel like I’m losing my voice and will to live through shouting! “Stop doing that!” “Share!” “Give your brother the spider back!” “William stop eating your sister! She doesn’t want to be the gingerbread man anymore!”
Me - “Amelia what are you doing?”
A - “Nothing!”
Me - “Then why is your brother crying?”
A - (Gives him toy back.) “He’s not crying anymore!”
It has been none stop!
I’m in need of some serious wine!!! Pass me the bottle!
A x