IT ONLY TOOK A SECOND…

Silence is not freakin’ golden.

Silence is bad.

Possibly VERY BAD.

I turned the shower off and stepped hesitantly, nude and dripping, into the hallway.

Nothing.

Well….perhaps….something….

I followed the trail of biscuit crumbs in my search for Hansel and bloody Gretel, my witches cackle beginning to gurgle deep in my throat.

And there they were.

My son was but a click away from subscribing to some random hobby kids TV channel on the iPad. He was also lying back now wearing nothing but his jocks; like father, like son. Prior to my shower, he was dressed in his sports clothes ready for the class we were due to leave for NOW. Oh but NOW, they were strewn through the kitchen; possibly where he had worked up a sweat on the kitchen step reaching the aforementioned biscuits.

Every toy we owned was spread from arsehole to breakfast in the living room.

EVERYTHING.

Tiny pieces of lego…in every square centimetre of floor; for the love of donuts; who knew we had so many??

Ben and Holly had obviously had a spell put upon them by my idol, Nanny Plum, and were clearly on the juice before 9am.

 

Our team of Octonauts were now seeking the depths of the dark recesses underneath the couch and chairs.

Unfinished and now upturned breakfast milk was slowly dripping across the bench into the rug below, which was apparently a beautiful new muddy puddle according to the plastic Peppa Pig who was ‘jumping’ in it.

I looked deeply into the eyes of Humpty Dumpty.

Given his recent fall from our kitchen bench and possible head injury, he managed to keep eye contact and gazed supportively back at me.

I tried to keep my shite together.

So it was going to be that kind of day, was it?

“iPad OFF!” I shrieked….the calm of 3 seconds earlier gone, when I saw the contents of my clean washing now providing blanket props for the freakin’ tea party/zoo animal rave that was apparently going on under the coffee table.

“NNNOOOO!!!” They screamed in unison.

Oh; because now I could see that bloody Princess Elsa had raided the costume box. She was also watching the iPad; her tiaraed head peeking out from beneath the now wrinkled dress I had just ironed before said shower.

It was a bloody shower; NOT A DAY SPA!!!

I stood helplessly surveying the damage.

Until biatch mum kicked in (she’s sooo my fave).

She snatched the iPad, threw the wrinkled dress over her head and slapped a cloth on to the milk puddle, all in one foul swoop!

Not today, my pretties.

Not today.

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