All I want is a bit of peace and quiet...that’s when ‘the tickle monster’ takes charge
DOUBLE TROUBLE FOR A FIRST-TIME DAD OF TWINS
“I WANT crumpet,” screamed Emma from the back seat of the car.
“It’s not ‘I want’, it’s ‘I’d like’ and say ‘please’”, I said calmly.
“I’d like crumpet, please,” Emma said.
“We’re in the car and haven’t got any crumpets or a toaster,” I said in a matter-of-fact manner, wondering whether I should have pointed this out first.
“I WANT CRUMPET,” little breakfast Marie Antoinette shouted.
This continued for the remainder of the short drive. My only defence
was to turn up the radio in the hope Zoe Ball might be more annoying than Emma.
Dutifully, as soon as we got home, I ran into the kitchen, toasted a crumpet, buttered it and handed it over for Emma to reply, ‘I want honey’.
The twins had really embraced the ‘I want’ phase and were best described as dictatorial in their increasingly extravagant demands.
Thomas was ambitious in his ‘wants’, which included wanting to drive and wanting an actual bus, but his favourite was ‘I want mummy’.
This was often sparked by me refusing him something or if I attempted to brush his teeth, comb his hair or get him dressed.
This is fine when she’s in the house but sometimes she’s not and he likes to escalate his demands.
Hence the other morning, Thomas was lying on the kitchen floor in front of the dishwasher, screaming ‘I want mummy’, while I was stepping over him to unload the dishes.
To the untrained eye, this looked a lacklustre approach to parenting, one in which you’d think I’d attempt to console and reason with him.
However, I’ve realised this is pointless because he cries more,
and his behaviour is best described as overly theatrical.
He reminds me of a ham actor putting on a show for the audience because there are no actual tears, and his screams take on a musical quality akin to Mariah Carey belting out All I want for Christmas.
So, what’s the answer if he’s blocking a cupboard, doorway or you want a break from the noise?
The best I’ve got is to pretend to be a monster.
For the uninitiated, this involves holding my hands up, as if they were claws, wide staring eyes, a stumbling run while roaring and tickling upon eventual capture.
In many ways I’ve surprised myself with what I’d describe as a convincing portrayal, considering I never thought of myself as an actor.
Something else of surprise is I knew I’d need to learn some life skills with children but never imagined one of those would be pretending to be a monster for an hour or two every day.