Unreasonable Toddler Requests
1
So Oscar has clearly raided the money jar. He waddles in with armfuls of copper coins and odd five pence peices. It’s 21:30 and I’ve watched walking with dinosaurs on repeat for the last four hours. He thrusts them onto the sofa next to me. I didn’t notice (fuck knows how it must be a foot diameter) the large sieve he has in his hand. ”Mummy, let’s make a picture with all this money” So I sit up. That doesn’t sound too painful, I’m no Neil Buchanan but I’m up for a small smiley face or a sun! ”You use your hands and I’ll use this racket” and
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2
so he swiftly starts batting the money about with the sieve flicking pennies around, casually smashing my fingers and really not helping with my big art attack. It’s too late at night for this. So I continue to try and make a picture while playing knuckles with a small child.
This is not the only unreasonable request he has had today, and definitely not in all of history . He squashed my face to the cushion while telling me to pretend I can’t move and then poked me repeatedly in the eye until I got upset. He over exaggeratedly climbed next to me
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3
putting his bare bum in my face for longer than is necessary. He unjustifiably accused my sister of ruining his painting. He always makes me be the ankylosaurus when all I really want is to be a triceratops. You know, that kind of thing.
But somehow I just accept it. I stared at a little boy bum for at least two minutes while he trampled on my rib cage. I waited until he drew tears before I asked that he stop jabbing me in the eye. And I always plod around like the ugly ankylosaurus that I am. It’s fucking make-believe. I could be a fucking mermaid
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4
if I liked he couldn’t stop me! But I still plod around making dying giraffe type noises and swinging my bum about like I have a clubbed tail.
That is mum life. Compromise. Except it’s less eat all your pie or else you won’t have any pudding and more lay there and suffer pain while I experiment with your eyeball.
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Rachel - 17 Sep 15
So Oscar has clearly raided the money jar. He waddles in with armfuls of copper coins and odd five pence peices. It’s 21:30 and I’ve watched walking with dinosaurs on repeat for the last four hours. He thrusts them onto the sofa next to me. I didn’t notice (fuck knows how it must be a foot diameter) the large sieve he has in his hand. “Mummy, let’s make a picture with all this money” So I sit up. That doesn’t sound too painful, I’m no Neil Buchanan but I’m up for a small smiley face or a sun! “You use your hands and I’ll use this racket” and so he swiftly starts batting the money about with the sieve flicking pennies around, casually smashing my fingers and really not helping with my big art attack. It’s too late at night for this. So I continue to try and make a picture while playing knuckles with a small child.
This is not the only unreasonable request he has had today, and definitely not in all of history . He squashed my face to the cushion while telling me to pretend I can’t move and then poked me repeatedly in the eye until I got upset. He over exaggeratedly climbed next to me putting his bare bum in my face for longer than is necessary. He unjustifiably accused my sister of ruining his painting. He always makes me be the ankylosaurus when all I really want is to be a triceratops. You know, that kind of thing.
But somehow I just accept it. I stared at a little boy bum for at least two minutes while he trampled on my rib cage. I waited until he drew tears before I asked that he stop jabbing me in the eye. And I always plod around like the ugly ankylosaurus that I am. It’s fucking make-believe. I could be a fucking mermaid if I liked he couldn’t stop me! But I still plod around making dying giraffe type noises and swinging my bum about like I have a clubbed tail.
That is mum life. Compromise. Except it’s less eat all your pie or else you won’t have any pudding and more lay there and suffer pain while I experiment with your eyeball.
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