Putting my foot down

Children sense weakness with some sort of sixth sense. Wifey was feeling under the weather this morning after having had just about zero sleep. I had to go to work because of a reason I’d rather not go into (suffice to say it wasn’t my fault) and they knew. They just damn well knew.

I was at my desk at work for 6.15am this morning and got home around twenty past twelve. I fear wifey had been assaulted by sofa, sticklebrick and other household items. In short both the small demoniacs had decided to play up.

As I entered the house lunch was being served. The wee lass let her desire for food overcome her desire to play up. M’laddo on the other hand was in full swing. Wanting a wee, not wanting a wee, getting up and down from the table half a dozen times, saying he wanted his dinner, saying he didn’t want it. All in all being a right little sod.

Wifey relieved him of his meal and I relieved him of his freedom. I tucked him under my arm and in true Harry & the Dinosaurs fashion, took him upstairs to settle down. Unlike the books he didn’t settle down and tried to follow me back downstairs. And I shocked him by putting my foot down. I picked him up under the arms, held him at arms length and told him he would stay there all day if necessary. He actually did a comedy style double take and sat quietly on his bed.

1-0 to me this time then.

I’m waiting for the payback.