Its late afternoon, we were meant to leave the house over an hour ago but I have been far too busy ‘tidying up’ (trying to extract toys from behind the radiator using a pirate sword, unbelievably frustrating).
Lil man is tired, bored and bouncing off the walls (onto the sofa). MissChief has done THAT kind of nappy that goes up her back. Yay.
She is running around the sitting room whilst I desperately try to pick her up. I catch her but she manages to wriggle free and grabs the curtain with her hands covered in Sh**.
‘COME HERE darling let go of ....’ My little 'darling' looks at me and smiles sweetly before pulling the curtain, which pulls the ENTIRE rail down with it.
‘ARGHHHHHHHHH!!!’ This pushes me somewhat OVER THE EDGE and I shout, loudly ‘NOOOOOO!! Come here RIGHT NOW!’ and at this exact moment my son says,
‘Don't worry Mummy! Daddy's home’
I don't even give him time to put his keys in the front door. I pick stinky MissChief up (who's now crying dramatically) and I hold her at arm’s length. I throw open the front door and I aim her towards him …
‘PLEASE!! Just Take Her’
Obviously so alarmed by all the shouting and the crying child covered in sh** being held inches from his face, he doesn't say anything for a second or two. THEN he speaks…
‘Erm hello, I'm just knocking on a few doors to talk about the wonderful work we do at the N.S.P.C.C. The National Society for the Prevention of Cruelty to Children’
Lil man who’s standing next to me says ‘YOU are NOT my Daddy ARE you’
Except the ‘ARE you’ sounded like…’ARE you??’
I can’t speak …
Eventually, I give him my best Mary Poppins smile and inform him I do a lot for charity, wish him good day then slam the door.
‘Quick!’ We ALL run to the window, huddle together and peer out to make sure he’s gone.
I pray he doesn’t trip over the recycling box that is overflowing with beer and wine bottles as he walks up the path (2 weeks’ worth AND we had people over ok??)
He trips over the recycling box as he walks up the path.
Of course he does.