Sometimes, I just don’t understand children.
They really do my head in.
There I was, happily working away in my office, when Godzilla entered (grumble, grumble).
“Excuse me, Mummy,” he says, completely surprising me. “Can I unstack the dishwasher, please?”
Given that it is his job to do it, anyway, I reply “Sure mate, that would be lovely. Thank you.”
To which, he throws himself on the floor and screams “I don’t want to do the dishwasher. I hate the dishwasher.”
Glad things are back to normal.