SLIME CRIME

Oops ! Kate’s girl reintroduces a banned substance

Ithought I’d banned slime. In fact, I thought I’d banned slime about twice already, but the other day, a tell-tale trail of glitter along the hall and into my daughter’s bedroom confirmed my worst fears – it was back.

“What is this?” I asked her as I held shiny, flinty pieces of plastic into the light.

“Umm, glitter?” she replied as though she wasn’t sure (every child’s strategy to avoid getting into trouble).

“Yes, it is,” I replied. “And why am I seeing it? Does it mean there is slime back in the house?”

“Umm,” my girl pondered, playing for time and weighing up whether this was the right time for a full confession or whether she’d be better off playing dumb for a little longer. “Yes,” she eventually uttered, slightly crestfallen. “Are you mad at me?”

“Well, how is it possible that it’s back?” I asked.

“I got given it, then I had some in the bathroom and I was just adding some glitter when I remembered it’s against the rules …” she trailed off.

“What can we do about this?” I asked her, putting the problem back on her to solve.

“I just play with it outside?” she suggested.

“Good plan,” I agreed as I walked away. But wait a minute, how had I agreed to the reappearance of slime – albeit outside – having already banned it twice? What is it about her sweet, cherubic face that suckers me in every time? Was it her politeness and ability to admit straightaway that she’d broken a rule? Was it that she’s the baby of the family and gets away with murder? Or was it that I’m just so exhausted and beaten down from trying to parent teenagers that a paltry amount of glitter and some slime seems like an easy, insignificant problem?

Either way, I second guessed myself and thought I’d better double back to make the point, and reiterate the rules and that they’re there for a reason. As I went back to my daughter’s room, I noticed her earnestly cleaning up the floor and removing bits of glitter from the carpet.

“Oh, she’s so good,” I thought to myself, second-guessing my second-guessing.

“So you’ve got the point: re the glitter?” I asked trying to sound authoritative and calm. “Yes,” she replied. “Good,” I said, trying to sound like I knew who was in charge.

Babies of the family always seem to get an easier ride. It was the same when I was growing up. I remember my brother and I always thinking our little sister had a dream run compared to us. I recall vowing never to do that and to make sure my youngest child was treated the same as the others when I was a parent, declaring as such to my mother.

But here I am, after four teenagers, and with the big age gap between them and her, seemingly unable somehow to ever tell her off. No wonder the slime’s back. I’ve got only myself to blame.