The battle lines were drawn. He glared at me steadfast, and confident. There was only ever going to be one winner here.
No I will not use a spoon today Mummy! I will eat my beef and mash on my terms, or I shall starve!!!!!
You’ve got to admire the stubberness off a 2 year old. We can usually count on him to swallow grub without protest, handling cutlery like a pro.
Some battles are worth fighting and simetimes when sleep depruved and alone it’s just easier to wait whilst this little human, slowly and infuriatingly sucks beef and mash from a 5ml paracetamol syringe.
This evening would be spent powerhosing every nook and cranny of his little pudgy arms and legs. There was much fun had running and rolling down sand dunnes and I knew that he would harbour kilograms of the stuff and gleefully sprinkle it on kitchen tiles, staircase carpets and bedroom floors upon our return home. I will deal with that tomorrow!!!
Now though, it’s bath time. A whiff of something in the air indicated the need for a gentle pre wipe. I whipped his nappy off, dealt with his thoughtful little gift, and stood him, bare bummed and smiling by our bath.
I quickly nipped out to grab his PJ’s and upon my return, there they were, glistening and golden on my bathroom floor;
3 little puddles………….