Aside from the acts of random violence, like punching me in the goolies in front of the head of the friends society at the Chiltern Open Air Museum, me and the boy get on very well. We have a sort of laid back father/son thing going on which is fine with me.
The dynamic of this has changed a little in the last week though as he’s turned into a right little sod at bed time. He’s always gone to bed really easily but now it’s a fight to get him undressed, a fight to clean his teeth and a fight to get him to stay in his bedroom let alone go to sleep.
Nothings changed and he’s definitely tired but it all culminated in the worst nights sleep in years on Saturday night. The screaming and crying started as soon as we put him down. The drumming of the feet on the wall started shortly afterwards and then the shouting. He woke his little sister up twice and by the time we put him in bed with us at 2.30am I had thoroughly had enough. We’d tried reasoning, threatening, cajoling with him and none of it had worked.
And to cap it all, his little sister decided that 4.20am was absolutely the best time to get up. I’m still recovering.