The other day I simply wanted to have a shower. Now I know that most days this is too much to ask of my children but I was feeling greasy, grimy and in desperate need to rid myself of this feeling of filth from head to toe. My boys, however, were making this task a little bit difficult on me.
The usual scenario for shower taking in my house goes something like this:
Plop the boys on our king sized bed. On opposite sides. Turn on a movie - the usual lately being The Incredibles. Then. Scurry into the adjoining bathroom and jump into the shower leaving the curtain half open (to be able to peek out and ensure no shenanigans - yelling loudly as I frantically rinse out my hair "I see you and everything you're doing!" and to also hear any loud screams, thumps or bumps). I take the quickestshowerinhistory while having manic anxiety the entiretime and hop out just before any sort of ruckus breaks out.
Most of the time this works.
On this particular day, however, they were being utter cavemen to each other minus the caveman clubbing and dragging by the hair. Really, it was just some pushing, grabbing of toys and yelling.
The stench of my husband's old t-shirt that I'd worn to bed could no longer be ignored. And I was pretty sure baby powder and deoderant just wasn't gonna cut it.
"Okay guys. Mumma needs to shower and I can't have you beating on each other anymore. Adrian into your room please. Finley, here's your Sleepy Sheepy and your blankie. Please, just chill out and look at your books for a few minutes. I won't be long. Promise" Into their separate bedrooms they went. Adrian, protesting loudly. Finley with a little smile, standing in the middle of his room.
Into the bathroom I went and had (as usual) the quickestshowerinhistory. I stepped out to hear Adrian screaming at the top of his lungs while banging the door with both fists, "I HAVE TO GO PEE! PLEEEEASE! I. HAVE. TO. GO. PEE!!!" I raced over to his bedroom, sopping wet, opened the door and out he barged. Did he beeline it to the toilet, you wonder?
He's figured things out pretty quickly around here I'd say.
Pre-school manipulation 101.
I opened the door to Finley's room. And found him curled up exactly where I'd seen him last, using Sleepy Sheepy as a pillow, his favourite blanket drawn around him.
And there you have it.
The distinct difference.