If the kids are in the same room, or even if they are not, they will definitely have a row. I’m getting so sick of it that today when they were arguing in the car I threatened them with no snacks after school. It worked for about 5 minutes. Their car row was about which of them was the blue power ranger and which was purple.
“I am blue Archie,” said Georgie firmly.
“No you are purple and I am blue,” said Archie defiantly.
“I AM BLUE” yelled Georgie fiercely almost leaping out of her seat to shout in his face.
“No Georgie you have to be purple because I am blue,” said Archie more loudly puffing out his shoulders and showing her that he was bigger so he must be right.
“You can both be blue,” said Grandpa diplomatically. He had the bad luck of being in the car with us that morning.
This row came a few minutes after Archie had yelled at Georgie for looking at his privates when he went for a wee. “I’m not looking at your winkie,” said Georgie primly (who was clearly looking at his winkie). “I looking at your feet.”
However all of this pales into insignificance compared to the car argument of last night. It started off with Georgie throwing a massive tantrum because I wouldn’t buy her skittles from the vending machine at the swimming baths. I offered her a bag of crisps instead (inferior) which she rejected and then hit me. I bundled her into the car where only the threat of telling her teacher that she was naughty made her hold still enough for me to fasten her seatbelt. Then she began kicking the back of my seat. “I want my crisps,” she yelled. This made me laugh. “No chance. And you are going straight to bed when we get home. You don’t hit Mummy”
She wailed and then turned on her brother who was enjoying the show while contentedly munching his way through his salt and vinegar walkers. “Not fair,” she yelled as Archie gloatingly scoffed his crisps.
“Mum can we sell her?” asked Archie
This prompted a burst of laughter and infuriated Georgie so much that she took off her slipper boot and started hitting her brother with it.
“Perhaps we could just leave her in the forest like Hansel and Gretel,” I responded.
“Noooooooo, don’t do it,” she cried.
“I’m joking, I wouldn’t do that. But you are going straight to bed,” I said.
Georgie decided she was not getting anywhere with violence. So she stopped whacking us, composed herself and then said: “I want my crisps please.”
But after attacking her Mum and brother this was closing the stable door after the horse had bolted.
By now Archie had devoured his crisps and turning to Georgie with a twinkle in his eye, he said “You can lick my fingers if you like,” which brought about a fresh bout of uncontrollable laughter and another whack with the slipper from his sister who was also trying to scrape him with her nails.
There was nothing else I could do but put her straight to bed when we got home and of course when she woke up in the morning she was an angel. The mild row they then had over Mr Bean seemed like nothing.
Georgie: “Mr Bean doesn’t have a Mum does he?”
Archie: “Yes he does Georgie, she is just not in the programme.”
Georgie: “No Archie, he doesn’t have one.”
Archie shouting: “He does Georgie. Everyone has to have a Mum or you can’t get born.”
Georgie: “Mr Bean prays for a Mum.”
*This was 24 hours. There are sooooo many more. Like the fight over a sick bucket, who gets in the bath first, who has the best belly button and so on. In fact there is nothing that can’t become an argument and at 4 and 7 years old I suspect this is just the start……