Godzilla has discovered a new word.
I know he has an older brother, but his older brother didn’t discover this word till he was nearly five.
“Godzilla, get dressed for swimming.”
“No, I hate swimming. I go to kinder today”
Ten minutes later.
“Get dressed for swimming, there’s no kinder today.”
“I tell you already, I go to kinder. I hate swimming.”
I take Monkey Boy to school – ooh, and a repeat of the same morning tantrums as yesterday. What joy.
And why am I the bad guy, when I’ve been dressed and ready to go for twenty fucking minutes, but its my fault we’re late?
Grumpy and Godzilla return from swimming. Where Godzilla refused to join in the lesson, because “he hates it”.
He has never hated swimming in his life.
“And I tell daddy to get dressed, coz I hate it.”
Great, that’s fantastic, how about you pick up all the crap you threw on the floor, like the cushions from the couch.
“No I hate it. I hate a mess. I hate fixing a mess. I hate it.”
Several more “hates” and some dramatic exits from the living room as he sobbed his way to his bedroom, he had “fixed a mess” and it was time to collect big brother from school.
“You ready to go get your brother from school.”
I hate bruvvers!”