Saturday, 11 July 2015

Beans, pigs and paint

Angel and Poppet have outdone themselves.  In what seems like a permanent quest to better their wide range of talents. There was hairdressing (cutting their own) and tattooing (drawing on eyebrows with permanent marker). They have now wandered into the world of interior design and in doing so have devised a new way to add unnecessary hours to my cleaning routine.  Whilst I was cooking dinner this evening the girls decided to do some art and craft. Twenty minutes later, plates in hand I walk into the front room only to find strange green and blue stains on the dining and coffee tables and a few questionable smears on the carpet.
Angel proudly announces that they have invented a new way to colour by colouring in a baby wipe with felt tip and then rubbing the dyed wipe over a chosen surface. Rage is starting to simmer somewhere down at my feet and I can feel it rising as I look from the dining table with a large green stain, probably a result of leaving the cloth by mistake, to the coffee table which is modelling a very deliberate and very large star.  And then I see them,  four perfect straight lines each about a foot long down our freshly painted wall. I count, it doesn't work. I shout and I think there was even a foot stamp but still I am not satisfied that the message is getting through. "outside" I say "mummy is very cross, out of my sight"
They shuffle quietly out mumbling apologies, Poppet looks at me with big brown eyes and smiles, then she smiles at her plate and as if in slow motion I watch her pick it up and turn it upside down counting the beans as they spill and slop onto the floor.  I take a very deep breath and explain to Poppet she will be sitting on the naughty step. She doesn't mind, she runs to it and sits proudly saying "mamma look" and beaming at me showing her perfect little teeth.
After a pointless minute there I send her outside to Angel and Delight who are now emptying the water butt and making streams in the garden.

I start the cleanup but I am interrupted by the sound of Poppet calling out, I look out of the window and see her INSIDE the guinea pig hutch, Angel and Delight are amused.  
"Did you put your sister in the guinea pig hutch?" I ask, ( another sentence I never imagined I would have to say) they shake their heads but I am unconvinced. I can see two terrified balls of fluff cowering  in the corner trying to hide from the toothy toddler who has now stuck her head through to their bedroom part of the hutch and is shouting "pig..pig".  After I have removed Poppet from the hutch and brushed her down, checked the pig pigs haven't died from shock,  stopped the river  in the garden and scrubbed the walls and tables everyone is sent early to bed.. I have friends arriving imminently who will be wondering why I have no wine left to offer them!

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