"You asked for it," says D, inserting the tip of her little finger as far into the hole puncher as it will go.
"If we end up in Accident and Emergency you won't be able to go to the Advent fair, and then you won't be able to buy sweets or sing in the choir."
"Suppose I make holes in something of yours?" says Deborah, seizing one of my letters from a wobbly pile and dangling it just out of reach.
"Then you won't go to the fair at all, injured or not."
"I will. I'll just let myself out of the front door and go on my own."
"You won't, because I'll ring your head and tell her you're on your way...."
Damn, blast and hell. Yet again I've been captured by Deborah's cunning conversational ploy, starting off as a grown up and then seamlessly being dragged back through the years as we argue until, within seconds, I end up as another 7-year old, though not one that Pippi Longstocking would recognise.
"I'll behave! I'll behave!" says Deborah, possibly frightened by the towering toddler now sitting, snarling next to her.
"All I want you to do," I say, "is change your clothes. They've got tomato ketchup all over them."
She scowls at me and disappears upstairs, rummages through the secret stash of favourite clothes that huddle in dirty togetherness under her bed and arrives back, sporting a whole new range of food debris.
"You know," I say weakly, "Perhaps the ketchup stains weren't that bad after all."
She leaves, sporting a smile of triumph to coordinate with the food stains.
I eye the hole puncher. You never know. With a bit of effort and some WD40, I might just be able to force one of my fingers into it.
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12 comments:
Scissors are a good one. Had to take my boy to a&e yesterday as he sliced the top of his thumb while about to cut out decorations at school.
he thought it was cool, but I thought it a right royal pain.
Woo-boy! OM, you really have your work cut out.
It may be time to start looking into some of those notorious boarding schools your country is so well known for having. I say round'em up, pack'em up and ship'em off to remote b.s. locals around the island -- and you need to take a much deserved holiday along the coast of the Mediterranean.
Call me. I'll do the same. After arrangements have been made, we can meet up in Monaco. I'll bring the tanning lotion and margarita mix.
I could quite easily do without my Aga too.
You never win arguing with a 7 year old. I have the experience every day!
Crystal xx
If you have no luck with the hole punch, a staple gun should do the trick.
Mya x
Mid-lifer. Thanks for the tip. Just sharpening the blades, now. Did they manage to re-attach it. Thinking about it is making me feel rather eeugh.
Molly gras: What - you mean she really is the child of the devil. Oh, well, genes will out, I suppose. I've got the ice maker.
CJ: I have got to get some cut out switch installed so I stop trying to argue in the first place.
Mya: Why do I get the feeling that everyone is egging me on to more interesting self-harm measures. You're right about the staple gun, though. I think I could get to enjoy it, though. I've already managed to punch all my emergency phone numbers down one arm. Stylish yet useful.
OM - I thought Mya was suggesting the staple gun should be for use on your daughter, rather than yourself. It's all Me, Me, Me, with you...
Just kidding, obviously. A staple gun is too good for her.
Potty M: Well, I wish you'd told me before. It's going to take ages to get them out again with my embroidery scissors.
Yeuch. Is this how much children can change in just a few years? I thought this talking lark was a great advance. After reading your post, I'm no longer so sure. Still, at least I can borrow some of your come-back lines, though I doubt I'd ever have the nerve to use the hole puncher.
And I thought it was only boys who did the food stained look. Oh, I see, she's 7. My boy is still doing the same look at 16. Should I worry? (I do anyway, so don't answer that).
LOL
Ah yes the dangers of every day in the life of a mom.
M@L: It gets worse. Boyfriend troubles next.
Marianne: All my children sport food stains like badges of honour, regardless of age.
Lady M: It's a kid eat kid world out there, unless, as in our house. the toxins get them first.
Ooooh she's clever...does she give lessons?
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