Here comes the flood...

I've got a quick 15 minutes so I'm scribbling some stuff down. Today, as ever, is crazy busy.

My son Johnny is best friends with my sister Emily's little boy William. They go to nursery together, and Emily lives the opposite end of the intersecting road from me i.e. we are close. This means we often have lunch at each others houses - and today Em went off to pick up Willy's Fireman Sam outfit so I had him for lunch. I was busy concocting a delicious dish of bovril on toast, ham and tomatoes, when the two boys appear in the kitchen, DRENCHED. Not just a little bit wet, but totally soaking. Last thing I knew they were off to do a wee together (seriously inseparable). But they had been quiet, which is always a really bad sign... 

I run downstairs to the loo in the basement, and there is a FLOOD. A wave of soap filled warm water all over the floor, and what is worse, all down my new wallpaper leaving enormous streaks of watermarks. To remind you, our house is on the market. We have a viewing this afternoon, and it is the most impossible job trying to keep things tidy with 3 small children. "Arrrggghh!" (demented yell). I run back to the kitchen. Johnny is hiding under the (glass) table (he needs to work on hiding places). I'm sorry to all those who think I'm terrible, but he got a small smack on the bottom and a big yell. William rather unfairly just got a yell, but dishing out punishments is isolated to ones own kids (apart from the naughty step - that is universal). They were both ordered to eat their lunch right now, and not utter a word to each other. Oh the monkeys... the little furtive looks at each other, eyes twinkling, mouths twitching into a smile! Emily returns from the shop and is equally as cross, whilst I sit in the loo blow-drying my wallpaper. Back up to the kitchen, the Halloween Sweets are dramatically thrown in the bin by me. Still no remorse. (I have since retrieved them as I'd thrown away the tupperware box too). No pudding... No remorse... Finally, 'Right, bed!' I announce, at which point the threat of separation finally instills the conscience. 'I'm sorry, I'm sorry!' he cries, a little too late... 

It is now time to get him up, (he always has a nap, I'm desperately clinging on to my me-time) and I've got to hang his soaking clothes up, tidy up the mess (fancy dress - big thing in our house, and always, without fail, spread all over the floor), and get ready for the next viewing. Getting him up is the best, he is always so warm and cuddly and totally divine. Can't stay cross for long!

My little man looking very forlorn 

Mx

PS As an aside, Emily just rang to tell me that when they got home William said "Mummy you're just like me.... you've got really hairy legs too!"  Tee hee! Out of the mouths of babes!