I make the girls breakfast, put on a DVD and jump in the shower. As the water soaks my hair and body, I hear a scream. My instinct tells me to jump out of the shower and run to my children to check they’re not actually broken. My parenting experience tells me to wait. Listen and wait. I hear the stomp, stomp, stomp of tiny footsteps running towards me. The wail of “Muuuuummmmmeeeeee!” comes next.
I answer, a hint of irritation inflecting in my voice. “The telly turned off”. Yep, I knew it. Nothing serious at all. Not to me anyway, but to a 6 and 4 year old, the end of the bloody world apparently!
“OK. I’m in the shower. I’ll sort it out when I’m done”, I reply as calmly as I can.
The elephant footsteps fade away again. I lather shampoo through my hair and think I can hear more stomping approaching me. Child two wails, “Mummy? The programme stopped”. “Yes, your sister already told me and as I told her, I’m in the shower and will sort it out when I’m done”. “OK”, she says as she retreats.
I rinse out the shampoo and lather up again. I hear the scream of “Muuuuummmmmmmeeeeee!!!!” coming from the lounge. Followed by Bunny, who tells me that Bear has spilt her milk. “Tell her to get a tissue and wipe it up then. I’ll be there in a minute”, I reply, not really trying to hide the irritation anymore. It goes quiet. I rinse out the shampoo again and smooth through some conditioner. The stomping noise approaches once more. “How much longer are you going to be, Mummy?” Bunny asks. “About 2 years, just to annoy you the way you’re annoying me now”, I reply, dripping with sarcasm. “Oh” she mutters and wanders off.
I almost finish my shower in peace, but then…
“I’m a Care Bear!”
And I’m a bloody don’t care bear!