I may lose my snacks, but the twins pay me back with funny moments
WHAT do you want from the shop?’ I shouted. ‘Reindeer’, Thomas bellowed back. A rather more complex demand than the usual ‘cake’, I thought.
‘I’ll see how much they are’, I said, hoping he didn’t actually mean venison, which would be both expensive and a challenge.
To be honest, I didn’t bother asking in the shop as they struggle to provide anything other than a spectacular array of energy drinks, crisps and protein bars.
Thankfully, Thomas was involved in a territorial dispute with his sister
upon my return and neglected to demand the reindeer.
In some ways, this amusing little request is just one of the occurrences that might be lost amidst the chaos of existence, when children, their demands and domestic chores conspire against you.
So, here are just a few which make me smile, despite the circumstances:
■ Whenever I open a bag of crisps, the twins magically appear. Initially alarmed, I start to smile once I’ve handed out half a bag and given myself a little breathing room.
■ The same applies to biscuits. I don’t know whether they can hear the bag open, smell freshly opened snacks or have a mystical talent but it’s something I’ve grown to appreciate despite all the sharing I have to do.
■ If I say they’re not allowed to play with something, eat whatever they desire or climb on the table, they immediately cry for mummy. The reverse is true if they’re with mummy and she forbids it.
■ Whatever one twin seems to be enjoying, the other child immediately wants. The amusement factor depends on the mundanity of the object before they noticed it – my favourite was an epic squabble over an empty toilet roll.
■ The drama surrounding a parcel. The recent delivery of a replacement mop head whipped them into such a frenzy, I worried they’d never sleep.
■ ‘Mummy, I’ve done a poo’, still sparks frantic excitement in the household as they both rush around shouting for assistance no matter who issued the original cry. And it’s always ‘mummy’ and never ‘daddy’, so I can legitimately enjoy the commotion from afar.
What’s surprising is, these situations are not unique to our children. Friends report similar behaviour, which leads me to suspect they’re all built to be a little demanding, but in a gently amusing way, to make everything a little easier for everyone.