I once had to write Daddy a letter to remind him of the rules, which he was flouting far too frequently for my liking. It is with sad regret that I now feel that I have no choice but to also remind you three of your contractual obligations as well. When I signed up to be your parent I did so with certain caveats. A simple ruling system was set up to be adhered to at all times. Lack of understanding and generally being small children are not deemed to be suitable reasons for non adherence.
As previously stated:
- These rules are communicated telepathically.
- They are also subject to change at any given whim.
- The list will be ever growing and infinite.
- They can be made up on the spot.
Given the seriousness of the breaches I have again no choice but to formally stipulate in writing the terms of our alliance. Further violations will result in withholding of Peppa Pig and muttering of swear words under the breath.
Things that are just not on
- Crying in the middle of the night just as I enter a lovely dream involving Bradley Cooper and a converted loft (don’t ask – it made beautiful sense at the time).
- Refusing to settle in your own bed and then finally nodding off in a diagonal fashion in my comfy setting giving Mummy a generous 3cm to slumber in.
- Doing a sneaky 4am poo (to add insult to injury) so my newly laundered bed sheets smell like a sewage plant on a sweaty day.
- After all those shenanigans, deciding to renege on your role as a human wake up call and arising one hour after the time we need to get up resulting in crazy morning chaos.
- Yelling mummy at the top of your lungs from the other side of the house 106 times. Then when I get there asking me something ‘urgent’ like how do the telephone wires work.
- Asking me, in fact, loads of questions I just don’t know the answer to. Honestly I really don’t know how words go down the telephone line or how mobile phones work (mind is blown thinking about it).
|Mummy, mummy, mummy, MUMMY.
How does petrol make a car go?
Man alive – who cares!
- Taking 40 minutes to eat one Weetabix and three seconds to demolish Star Bursts (before I can steal one).
- Peeing all over the toilet seat (especially just before Granny arrives).
- Telling your teacher that mummy always cooks beans on toast for tea. It is just every now and again (ssh).
- Coming with me to a posh shoe shop where I already feel like a scruff and shouting loudly that your bum is itchy.
- Picking your nose and eating it as I stand chatting to that cool mum at the school gates.
- Hiding pasta down the back of the radiator so you don’t have to eat it (it will stay there until mummy can be bothered to scrap it off the wall as a reminder of your misdemeanour.
- Being a general fussy gang of picky eaters. I’ll have you know my sausage casserole is yum. And no the sausages don’t need to be brown (I think!)
- Asking mummy if there is a baby in her belly as she is about to go out with the girls (and thinks she looks foxy).
- Doing a plank impression when you need to go in the car seat/pram.
- Asking to put ‘our programmes’ on as soon as I sit down with a brew and Revenge thinking you are all busy doing various mischief somewhere.
- Needing the toilet as soon as my food arrives in a restaurant.
|Is that meal that has just arrived lovely? Good.
Can you take me the toilet now.
- Wanting to play with playdough (it ain’t happening here).
- Pretending every single day (after day) that you have brushed your teeth and me every single day (after day) having to go check that your tooth brush is wet (and nice try running it under the tap – I am now on to that. All the effort it would be quicker to actually brush said teeth).
|We have brushed our teeth. Honest we have.|
- Saying any of the following more than once a day: “can I have a snack?” “Do I have to?” “I’m bored.” “What are we doing next?” “Just what is in your tummy mummy?”
- Mimicking mummy’s voice is just not on. Ever. The end. No don’t repeat “ever, the end” like that. Oh I give up.
Please refer to appendix 1-4356 for further sub-clauses of these rules.
Your ever-loving Mummy