Long car trip home. The girls pleaded and pleaded we “put on some music by Dora The Explorer!” We don’t have any music by Dora The Explorer. And even if we did, I don’t think playing it would be good for the long term stability of our family. So we put on The Gipsy Kings and told them it’s music by Dora’s Dad.
Meanwhile, in the backseat, a silent protest was underway against the parental singalong to Elton John in the front seat. Then we sang along to Roxy Music and the protest numbers doubled.
Apparently this isn’t a messy pile of books, “it’s a sandcassel. Don’t ever put it away, ever ever”
Me: “Tilly, time for bed” Tilly: “Ok! I’ll just get my gumboots!” It’s abundantly clear I need to introduce my two year old to the social code about how you’re better to arrive at an engagement dressed too casually vs. too flashy.
Me: “Oo! I heard a rustling sound early this morning, maybe it was the Easter Bunny!”Tilly: “Oh noooo! Is he gonna kill us?” Me: “…um…no…he might have left you some chocolate…” I feel I haven’t been as thorough with explaining childhood rituals to my second child as I was with my first.
Tilly spent 20 minutes trying to coax Frankie into eating some banana. Defeated (cats just aren’t into bananas) she tearfully shouted “But I made aeroplane noises and everyfing!”, then got in a shit with everyone in the house. WELCOME TO MY WORLD, TILLY.
Peanut butter & jam sandwich requested. Peanut butter & jam sandwich rejected moments later because “I didn’t want peanut butter in it! And no jam and NO bread!”
At the end of the party, there’s always that one girl with her eyes half-closed saying “here, hold my drink, I’m gonna see if I can do the splits”.