The love IS there

I’ll admit it. These school holidays have been rough.

My tolerance levels have been somewhere around “Fuck you!” and I have a four year old and a twelve year old whom are both behaving remarkably alike. I.e. fucking revolting.

I don’t like it much when I can’t get work done. I accept it is a difficult time to undertake such tasks and do my best to do what I can with what I have; a fishwife voice, next to zero tolerance, a head runnething over with ideas and bugger all time and space to get it out, let alone do something productive with it.

The house is overrun with toys, as I’ve lost all capacity to say “Put that away before you get something else out”, but at least the kids are having fun and occupying their own minds. Until, of course, the sense from the other end of the house that I have sat down at my desk and picked up a pen. I’ve even resorted to using crayons to take notes, as they have no lid to remove, to clicker to click and are relatively silent.

Then, the Biggest One sends the Littlest one on a mission to race up behind me, repeatedly, to yell “BEWARE THE PENIS OF PERIL!”

Which is pretty funny, but really bloody annoying and I’ve already explained to Monkey Boy that if I get a phone call from kinder because Chippie is running around calling everyone a ‘penis’, he will be making Apology Phone calls and writing formal Letters of Apology to all concerned.

“It wasn’t me,” he says, all wide eyed and full of bullshit.

“It was him!” he continues, pointing to Godzilla.

Which is when I lose my shit. Again.

The entire holidays (year?) have been sprinkled with such similar moments ….

I take them for a walk to local massive shopping centre. where they behave really well

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