It’s not a toddler, it’s a natural disaster.

I’m sorting the house for Christmas, this means I am taking the piles of shit that lie around my house and finding a cupboard I rarely open, the piles of shit then go in to that cupboard, I spray some polish in the air, put a chair over the massive sticky patch of unidentifiable origin that we have been stepping over for a month or so now and I am done.

Only I’m not am I, because I have a 3yr old.

 

Those cupboards are being opened behind me, every single piece of paper I have shoved in there to ‘file later’ now lies all over the floor with random ‘drawings’ on them. “Look mummy, it’s  donkey” Well it’s not is it, it’s just a straight line, don’t try and give me that cute, I’ve drawn you a picture shit, you’re just causing destruction for the sake of it.. You love it, you revel in it, you get your kicks from seeing that vein in my forehead start to throb.

“I love you mummy.”

Well played small person, well played.

 

There are now 2 sticky patches, the other one appeared all of a sudden and I only found it when I went to lift my foot from the floor and nearly took off a layer of skin, the 3yr old is looking far too innocent, the paperwork is in the sticky patch and you can guarantee that really important piece is face down and when I go to peel it off all the text will stay on the floor while I am left with a perfectly blank piece, meaning to read it I will need a mirror and the ability to read backwards and blurred., I don’t have enough chairs to cover both sticky patches and now I am actually going to have to clean it, with products and everything.

I hunt in the cupboards and finally find at the back something blue and toxic looking which guarantees to lift off any mess,germs, dirt, mysterious sticky patches and 3 layers of varnish from my wooden floors. I look closely but there is nothing on there about the removal of an evil toddler who is currently off elsewhere most likely polishing my fireplace with a marker pen, you see I think I have removed  all the pens but there will be another one. There is always another one.  I figure we will give it a try, it shows a picture of a smiley happy lady simply spraying and with a wipe of her cloth everything just lifts away. I feel comforted that these blue chemicals will make my life easy and I too will be that happy smiling housewife.

 

Off we go filled with a new hope of a brave new, sticky patch free world.

 

Back in the front room there is indeed now a long red streak from the fireplace to the sofa, but it’s ok. I have the power of the blue chemical, Evil Toddler will lose and I will triumph.

With a rather smug smile I spray my spray, grab my paper towel and swipe.

Nothing happens.

Nothing fucking happens.

My paper towel is now stuck to the sticky patch, the spray is seeping through the gaps in the wood and the Evil Toddler is watching across the room with the red marker in his hand ready to strike.

There is a moment of perfect silence as we stare at each other.

He glances to his hand, I glance to his hand.

He glances to the wall and in that split second I know what he about to do. Everything goes in to slow motion.

I dive across the room, barrel rolling across the rug, his hand reaches out towards the very white walls, the hand with the very red marker pen in it. I see it head towards the wall and as I roll towards him I reach out and I grab the pen. He moves ever so slightly to the left and he drops it as I grab it. My forward motion propels me on, the pen is in my hand, it makes contact with the wall and as I roll I leave a perfect red line all the way down.

I have drawn on the wall. Not him. It was me. I sit up and stare at him, he stares at the wall, he smiles.

“I love you mummy.” Then he leaves.

I saw this picture today.

It lies.

You have another option.

Vodka.

I will always choose vodka.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s