Monday, 12 March 2012
Tiny the Tyrant
Tiny is putting me through my paces these last couple of weeks.
That little innocent face? Yes. That little person, hamming it up for the cameras, has been a complete and utter whirlwind of mischief.
First stop - weeing on the Doctor's bed in the morning.
When asked why she did this - her response:
"I couldn't see the toilet."
Second stop - a number two not in the loo - in the bathtub, together with a bath towel and a bath mat. The girl is gross.
She did not even deny this.
Third stop on this whistle stop tour of havoc - this time - a jolly big wee on her bed.
And today friends, I went to pick the Doctor up from school - I pulled the scooters out of the boot because I thought - what the hey - it will be fun! Tiny rode her scooter all of 1 metre, then threw herself on the ground and chucked an almighty wobbly. Almighty in the sense that every other parent who walked past gave me that knowing look, and I almost listed her on eBay. Yes. That kind of almighty look.
At home she's been turning her bedroom into a librarian's nightmare by tossing all her books all over the floor. Every. Single. One. Of. Them. Together with a nice mix of clean and worn clothes. I've given up assessing whether the clothes need washing or not, fold half of them and toss the others into the wash.
Then there's the kamikaze attacks on the Doctor. I arrived home from work last week to find the Doctor sporting a hefty bite mark on his cheek. Seriously?
And on a separate day, the smalls were in the bath, I walked in to find the Doctor completely covered in scratch marks, and Tiny reclining at the other end of the bath. They now have separate baths because they fight too much.
What is going on with Tiny? Do I need an intervention? Or just a holiday?