Poor little Phoebe is suffering at the moment, as are we (see previous post) and her tired, ill crabbiness combined with our tired, healthy crabbiness is causing more than a little friction in the Mungo household, especially around bed time.
The dual pronged crabbiness attack combined, forming a pincer movement if you will, in a rather tearful bath last night. As a result, I was rather grumpy even though in true toddler style she'd cheered up quite a bit by the time we got round to cleaning her teeth.
"Daddy, " she said, "can I go in the Pinky-Ponk to the bathroom?" The Pinky-Ponk, for those of you who aren't fans of In the Night Garden is a sort of airship that the characters fly about in sometimes. I replicate this by getting her to squat down and then picking her up with my hands under the backs of her legs as though she's sitting in a chair and then zooming her round the room. She loves it.
"No," I replied "you've been too naughty. If you want to fly in the Pinky-Ponk you'll have to do it on your own." And marched off to the bathroom. She didn't follow me. Then a little voice said "I can't, I'm too big." As I looked up, she duck-walked round the corner with her hands behind her knees, straining upwards with her arms. "I'm too big, I can't pick myself up."
Grumpiness was dispelled. Bless.
No comments:
Post a Comment
Comments are now moderated...