Hi! <Waves>

Funny and honest tales from a made-to-work Dad of three, wobbling, graying, and laughing his way through parenthood. Armed to the teeth with Nerf guns, full of pie, fighting a chocolate addiction, but genuinely honoured to be at least half of Team Parents (yay!).
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13 June 2017

Boy9's Death Wish II...

I am not quite sure why boy 9 is trying to get himself killed.
(In a jokey way obv. not actually death, telling off really).
But he was clearly was.

It’s all context this tale.
It’s not what he did. It’s not like when he got blood on the sofa and I swooped in and saved his life from Mrs. Amazing. By using my amazing skill of being able to clean stuff to a reasonable degree.
No, no.
This time what Boy9 did was just something that happens to children a lot.
He broke a toy. It happens.The issue here is when it happened.
When.
<Shakes fist>

Team Parent (yay!) had the busiest of weekends planned.
All day wedding on the Friday.
Next day the wedding breakfast and then BabyBoy3’s birthday BBQ party.
Then a rest day (thank Bacon for that).
And Monday as both the bigs ones had an inset day. We’re off to Legoland (YAY!) 2-for-1 vouchers in hand, to celebrate BabyBoy3’s birthday.
I utterly love Legoland it’s second only to Stripper Disneyland.

(We have to queue to give you money? <Grumbles>)

Team Parents (yay!) plan was so very viable.
Because the Friday was the last day of half term. So theoretically. As long as we let the children rest all of half term week. They would be well rested and unwound by Friday, ready for the busy weekend. Then back to school Tuesday.
See. Very viable and possible.
<Looks wistfully into the distance knowing it was always doomed to failure>

Our spanner in the works.
Was a sick bug. That BabyBoy2 got. Then Miss6. She had a rough day of it to be honest.
I stayed home from work to look after her and watch Disney films all day, and eat sweets and listen to her dry retch all day.
I missed the bug but my tummy rumbled all week. Team Parent (yay!) washed everything the sickies touched, in the hope that Boy9 wouldn’t get it.
As he was the ring bearer for the wedding…

Vico: ’Does anyone have the rings’
Boy9: <Walks up to the front>
Boy9: <Glances at me>
<Gives thumbs up>
Boy9: ‘RARRRRRR!!!! RARRRR!!!! I AM A BEAR!!!’ <Makes himself look big>
Boy9: <Does big paws too> <Then runs off>
<Is proud>
Mrs. Amazing: ‘I am guessing that was your idea... which you thought was hilarious’
<Is crying tears of laughter> I can't breath... Yes!
Mrs. Amazing: <Sighs> ‘Where’s Boy9 run off to?’
The woods just over there…
Mrs. Amazing: ‘Why?’
No idea… <Thinks>
OH! Hang on… I’ll go stop him…
<Runs>

Anyhoo…

Thursday night.
The night before the wedding. I was knackered and had been up since 5:30am as BabyBoy2 and Miss6 are utter, utter smegheads sleep wreckers.
Everyone, EVERYONE was supposed to get an early night. Me included.
As were all going to stay up very late at the wedding dancing.
Until midnight…

[...12th-BONG]
<Turns into pumpkin>
Craaaaaap… Not again!

I threw Miss6 into bed.
Miss6: ‘Ow!’
Mrs. Amazing was on boy bedtime duty (BabyBoy2 and Boy9).
I listened to Miss6 very slowly read a book far too hard for her. Which I was so proud of her for doing. She loves to push herself and learn. But for me it was a bit like having teeth pulled as she struggled with word after word.
Very proud. But in pain.

Afterwards I headed downstairs to bake!
It was my turn to make BabyBoy2’s birthday cake and I guessed I was going to need two chocolate cakes to make his ‘Digger’ cake.
Which may not sound hard. But two cakes takes quite a while, as we’ve only one cake tin.
And that’s a lot concentrating for me.

(Starter, main, and cake for pudding… YUM!)

Anyhoohoo…

The early bedtime plan didn’t go well.
BabyBoy2 took an hour. And his door being held shut until he finally had a big old boo, and then crashed out. Miss6 we thought was asleep till she snuck down for a wee. She was not met with happy faces.
And Boy9 was put to bed as nicely as possible. Early, but with a clear message that he has a big day tomorrow. Please just sleep.
Please.

We saw him again at 8pm.
Team Parent (yay!) hit him with both barrells of frowny faces.
Double beamed him on the stairs as we ate our tea (supper) (not the cups... we drink those).
And back to bed he scarpered.
Hopefully to sleep all night and then lay-in in the morning.
HA!

Mrs. Amazing headed out shopping for booze pre-wedding snacks.
Leaving me happily baking away. Eating cake mix and not once, not twice, but at least nine times being surprised how yuk cocoa powder tastes until you add butter and sugar.
I was just melting what was left of a chocolate bar in the microwave and stirring in butter.
When at 8:30pm Boy9 walked into the room.
Looking very sheepish…

Isn’t that hot...
Oh no... <Looks disappointed at Boy9>
What are you still doing up?...
I am very disappointed!

I was.
I couldn’t believe he was still up. I wasn’t even cross. More shocked and disappointed.
It was lucky Mrs. Amazing wasn’t there. She may have had a few words to say to Boy9 about his still being up.
Normally I would have given Boy9 my own round of words. But I was mid-cooking and wasn’t about to get into to a fight with Boy9.
With cake in the oven…

Boy9: ‘It was an accident’
OMFB! What was?... <Sense of dread rising>
Boy9: ‘I hardly touched it!’
Optimus!<Runs>
<Rubs face and puts down bowl of to be icing>
What on earth has happened? An hour after you were supposed to be fast asleep?

To be fair Boy9 was at least looking sorry.
He knew he been caught. Or at least was very, very close to being in serious trouble.
No YouTube for a month kind of trouble.
I think he was pretty glad it was just me there. I am more of a sucker.
I was busy as well.

Boy9 explained what happened.
His blue stress weird toy he has. Exploded in his room.
And there’s flour everywhere. In his room. Well it looks like flour...
<Swears into hands silently>
I’m basically tempering chocolate at that moment so cannot stop.
I tell Boy9 to go back to bed I’ll be up in a bit.

Which turned out to be a great idea.
As it gave me a chance to cool off. And eat icing.
And it gave Boy9 a chance to reflect on what he had done. And more importantly it gave Boy9 a chance to search his soul and work out what would really make me less mad with him. Boy9 started tidying up his own mess.
Good choice.

Icing made.
I head upstairs to Boy9’s room and find him cleaning the floor with toilet paper.
And there’s 'flour' everywhere. On his bed. Rug. Floor. Books. Clothes…

(It just '''''''magically''''''' exploded)

Boy9: ‘I hardly touched it and it just exploded...’
What with? A sledge hammer?
Boy9: ‘Honest!’
Have you considered a career in politics?
<Gives Boy9 a look…>
Boy9: <Looks away> <Has shifty eyes>

I bought the hoover with me.
Handheld. I use it as quietly as possible so we don’t wake Miss6 and BabyBoy2.
We clean. Boy9 does his best with toilet paper. Which is appreciated.
Boy9 hops back into bed very clearly ready to sleep this time.
I head downstairs with the rug and shake it out And it's hard to dance with a devil on your back in the garden.
I put the rug back in this room and say night.

Boy9: ‘Thanks Dad’ <Hugs me>
Hmmm…
… Don’t worry… I’m sure you’ll break something far worse in the future...
Boy9: ‘Love you!’
Love you too... <Hoovers Boy9’s face for fun>
Night!
<Leaves chuckling>
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