Mr. Waffle: Tu veux du porridge?
Princess (sobs): NON! Cornflakes.
Me: Would you like some cornflakes?
Princess (hysterically): NO!
Me: OK, no cornflakes.
Princess: Yes cornflakes. In a mug.
In the supermarket, she demands a bottle. Mr. Waffle goes to the car to fetch it. She sobs “NO, bottle with a straw”. We
haven’t got a bottle with a straw. “With a straw (rising volume), WITH A STRAW, WITH A STRAW”. Hysteria. Off to the supermarket checkout. Mr. Waffle is packing, I am unloading the trolley. She is sitting in the trolley weeping at the unfairness of life. I pick her out to try to stop her. A woman on crutches has to help me unload the trolley while I try to placate Ms. Cranky.
Back home, Mr. Waffle brings the shopping upstairs. The Princess clutches a swim nappy which she has rescued from the pile of shopping.
Princess: Put it on, Mummy.
Me: Sweetie, you’re already wearing a nappy.
Princess (insistently sobbing): Put it on, Mummy.
Me: No, darling, you’re already wearing a nappy.
Princess throws herself full length on the floor and weeps on to the offending swim nappy.
Looks up with red eyes and says: Get in the lift, Mummy.
Me: No, sweetie, I don’t want to leave you here on your own, you might hurt yourself or somebody might come in and you might be scared.
Princess (still prone) sobs her heart out and yells: Get in the lift, Mummy.
Me: No, sweetie, we’ll go up together when you’re ready.
Princess remains sobbing into nappy while I sit on the stairs wondering whether I have the strength and energy to pick her up and carry her into the lift.
Princess sits up and goes to the lift door: OK, Mummy, I ready.
In the afternoon we went to the Glam Potter’s where L and her new baby sister were impeccably behaved. Poor old Mr. Waffle spent the afternoon trying to meet the insistent and varied needs of our girl (“fais pipi Papa” or “c’est à moi”, while wrenching something from L) while I sat and moaned to the GP.
Home to cranky dinner (pas de SAUCISSE), cranky bath (I wan get OUT) and early bed. We’re shadows of our former selves. Mr. Waffle has gone for a nap to recover.
on 17 July 2005 at 10:50
I like the idea of cornflakes in a mug. I also like the idea of being able to lie prone in the lobby of our apartment sobbing into nappies, or anything – such a shame that I’m too old for either. I think you do brilliantly to be able to do it all and then blog in such a witty way about it. 1
on 17 July 2005 at 14:14
Yeah, Jack, I suppose you’re right. Mercifully she slept 13 hours last night and is all sweetness and light today.
Heather, you are very kind. Thank you for your sweetie. You realise that I now have a mental picture of you lying in the lobby of your building sobbing into a nappy while nervous Swiss people give you a wide berth.
on 17 July 2005 at 14:36
It all balances out in the end… see. And I for one think you are winning 🙂
on 17 July 2005 at 23:40
A good night’s sleep exceptionally well deserved.
Try the nappy and laying on the ground screaming at people thing sometime. It’s a great stress reliever, a detox of the woe in your soul. No, really.
Think about how relaxed the Swiss all look. See?
on 18 July 2005 at 07:44
I feel exhausted for you.
on 18 July 2005 at 11:22
queen princess ..
on 18 July 2005 at 11:59
Oh bless her. My nephew once chanted ‘Purple Cup, Purple LID’ for about four hours because the one he had was the wrong colour. You’ve got to admire their persistance.
on 18 July 2005 at 19:15
Thanks Jack, I hope you’re right. Well, Mike, they do kind of look relaxed don’t they? Thanks Minks, I fear it all lies ahead of you….
Kate, excellent. And slightly terrifying.