The Boys first sleep over

anything you like, just don’t wake Fifi up

I had a taste of things to come last night when wifey had a girls night out with, amongst others, Izzy’s mum. Since her daddy was away at a conference, she had a sleep over with us (at least until about 11.30ish at any rate).

So, the boys first sleep over and in the words of Jason Derulo, I was ridin’ solo. The brief was simple, wifey and co left at 6.15pm and all I had to do was get them to bed and make sure nobody died in the interim. Even I could manage that.With wifey’s help I make sure nobody dies at night time almost every single day. That’s not to say we fail occasionally, but to say I am out on the odd evening myself.

I thought I’d eschew the disciplinarian dad routine and tell the Boy and Izzy they could stay up in the boys room as long as they were quiet and didn’t wake Fifi up.With that promise I got everyone off to bed at the usual time with only the reading of Winnies Flying Carpet as an aid to sleep. Go me, I am indeed a parenting genius.

So, by the time of the incident, I’d only been upstairs a few times:

  1. The world’s most enormous poo for the boy (I even tweeted my amazement about it);
  2. Closing the blind;
  3. A less enormous but still impressive poo for his sleep over buddy;
  4. Turning the light off and giving them a torch;
  5. Taking the torch away and turning the light on;
  6. Putting some music on (Cat Stevens if you must know);
  7. Opening the window;
  8. Shutting the window;
  9. Explaining the concept of superheroes and why it was alright to have a Spider-Man walltastic mural.
In a way it was really sweet since they kept to the pact. They didn’t shout and all I could hear was a soft “Daddy” from the top of the stairs.
Then the incident happened.
“Daddy, come quickly please.”, still in a quiet voice, “I think I’ve got a nose bleed.”
Quite why he thought he had a nosebleed and wasn’t completely sure will forever remain a mystery. As I rounded the bend on the stairs I saw what could have easily been a scene out of the Shining. There was blood on the bannisters, a bloody handprint on the wall, blood smeared all over the bathroom door and, well, you probably get the picture.
In the middle of the carnage was a slightly worried looking 4 year old who quietly told me he’d done his best to keep it off the carpet. Bless. And to be fair there was only one drop on the carpet. The rest of it that wasn’t still inside him was variously on the vertical structures of the house and him.
I’ll never get to the bottom of what happened, I suspect the two of them agreed a story before calling me but it was funny, especially the really useful help Izzy gave while I was clearing up.
So, sleep overs then, they’ll be better in the future wont they?