I am rudely awakened.

“Go back to bed,” I snarl.

The Toddler does not want to go back to bed. “Go back to bed,” I repeat. But to no avail. It is the same every morning. I do not know at what age children’s brains fully develop and they start realising that ‘go back to bed’ are the four best words in the English language alongside ‘fancy a quick pint?’ and ‘shall I wear boots?’. “Go back to bed,” I insist, from under the duvet.

It is fruitless. I rise bad-temperedly, and start thinking about breakfast.

There is something particularly draining about feeding the chickens, making tea, cooking breakfast, starting the washing machine, emptying the dishwasher, doing play-doh, drawing some pictures, doing a jigsaw, watching ‘Thomas the Tank Engine’, doing some more play-doh, hanging out the washing, checking on the chickens again, giving the dollies their milk and taking them to the play supermarket, making some more tea, putting some more washing on, watching ‘Hana’s Helpline’, putting the play-doh away and doing one more jigsaw and then looking at your watch to discover that it’s still 9.20am.

Fortunately, we still have to go to the Village Shop. That will kill fifteen minutes.

Honestly, I don’t understand what it is about children that they want to cram so much into the day. It can’t be healthy. She demands to watch Postman Pat, but I put my foot down. Postman Pat is different now. I suspect he might have had a bust-up with the Post Office licensing people, as he works from the ‘Special Delivery Service’ depot instead of the Post Office, and keeps buzzing around delivering stuff in helicopters.

We go to the Village Shop. I am knackered now. It is 10am.

27 Comments

  1. I have the opposite problem. Getting my two teenagers out of bed before mid-day is regarded as a result.

  2. Biorhythms all wrong again, Jonny?

  3. And the 8 best words are:
    “Shall I wear boots? Go back to bed”

  4. Just had to say, thanks for reminding me that no matter how tired and bored I am at home there is at least no Toddler here demanding that I make things happen. Just a cat who wonders in from time to time to demand food or recycle it on the carpet.

  5. Interesting. That’s exactly how my day goes when herding faculty members.

    Actually, that’s not quite true. There’s a great deal more whining about whose turn it is to chair the meeting and whether or not it’s time for drinks yet.

  6. It is true. Postman Pat has changed, along with the Mr Men, Rupert (which I never liked before anyway) and even Paddington Bear. I think these days they snort the same stuff the Care Bears take. Terrible telly.

    Pocoyo on CITV/Channel 5 kicks arse though.

  7. This is how I feel every single day of my life. But without the chickens and with the Tweenies instead of Thomas. I like to comfort myself with thoughts of hooving her bedroom at 6am when she is a teenager and occasionally waking her up at 3am demanding a cup of tea.

  8. I don’t suppose it’s any comfort to tell you that the day will come(if you eat the required amount of fruit and veg) when you will look back on those days with an overpowering yearning for the sweetness of spending all day with your dear little infant?
    Thought not:)

  9. Don’t let her go to bed so early. If she’s up until midnight, she’ll sleep until at least 9 am.

  10. I feel your pain Jonny, I really do.

    Mr Wheeliebin – you forgot that Thomas the Tank Engine has also changed.

    I’m more a fan of Charlie & Lola myself.

  11. Charlie and Lola is brilliant.

    The thing is, I don’t know what the problem is with some parents. I YEARN for her to get into Goth music and spend all day in her room with a joss stick and ‘Titus Groan’.

  12. She can start up a band called Gormenghastly, JoAnne commented helpfully.

  13. You know what would cheer you up? A nice new pinny. That’s what I get my wife when she’s feeling down. Maybe something with a lace trim, and a pocket in front for dummies and your curlers. Pop down to Debenhams and treat yourself – I’m sure they have a sale on…

  14. “So this is it for the next few years?” asks the yawning new mother as though no one warned her.

  15. Have you tried vodka on her morning cereal? That’ll knock her out for a couple of hours…

  16. Take heart in the fact that one day you will be an old confused man (more so, I mean), phoning her repeatedly at 6am to say you are worried that your phone isn’t working or that your carer is stealing from you.

  17. You wait until she is coming home at 6am in the morning and see how much sleep you have then!

  18. Try doing all that when you only got in from a night shift at 7.30 and are praying to all that is holy for ‘morning nap’ to come round, then start again until ‘afternoon nap’. My two were still having twice a day naps when they were 4.
    (Probably accounts for why as teenagers neither’s been up before 12 all 1/2 term).

  19. “Go back to bed”??
    How things change. In my younger days it was “come back to bed” that were the magic words. (Not said to children I must explain to the righteous)

  20. Ooh Jonny, didn’t know you were back, sorry.

    It won’t seem very long before your four best words will be ‘Here’s the deposit, sweetheart’.

  21. They’ve redone Postman Pat??? REally????
    God – what next? Mary, Mungo and Midge done by Pixar?

  22. Pingback: Yawn « It’s Not All Mary Poppins

  23. >I do not know at what age children’s brains fully develop and they start realising that ‘go back to bed’ are the four best words in the English language alongside ‘fancy a quick pint?’

    can’t help but think the last word is not quite right

  24. Ahhhh, lovely words, I wish someone would tell me that.

    Go back to bed. I’d read. I’d listen to music. I’d scribble. I’d read. And doze. And daydream. And listen to more music. I’d probably shift to the settee and watch tv.

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