“Puydge,” she says seriously.
Her hand grips my forearm in earnest.
I haven’t the bloody foggiest what she is on about.
“Pitch? …. Patch? …. Punch?”
I mentally rummage through my toddler’s lexicon.
Shit. She’s so cute. But I have no idea what she’s trying to tell me.
She stares at me. I madly scour the room, trying to figure out what puydge is.
“PUYYYYDGE!” she shrieks, the thought of the bland mush imminently heading her way filling her with the delight that my homemade risotto couldn’t.
Communicating with toddlers is pretty tricky. This isn’t a new discovery.
Below I’ve compiled a list of other things that are damn-right difficult when they should be so bloody easy.
The point is that on the one hand, having a kid makes life very, ridiculously simple. Life does a pull focus and your kid and your family become infinity + 1 times more important than all the stupid shit you used to worry about more than you do now.
(Or it could be that everything still worries you, but your kid just worries you more, I haven’t decided). That is why wine was invented.
But by turns, getting your two-year-old to sit in the fucking pram so you can go around the corner and buy some milk is so exceptionally difficult that I have no idea why university degrees were invented because they don’t help with this shit and meanwhile the spectre of Supernanny is sitting on my left shoulder admonishing me: “She’s running circles around you!!”
Here’s the list.
1. Finding an approved snack/breakfast/lunch/dinner that was approved yesterday and the day before and will still be approved tomorrow.
Magoo frequently tugs at my clothes and does a ‘thmap thmap’ lip-smacking sound which means she’s hungry. This is also accompanied by a brain-piercing whinge which means it’s urgent.
Being my child, she is not content to just get what she’s given, but likes to peruse both cupboard and fridge to see what tasty morsels are on offer.
The list of snack-time options never changes: raisins, fruit, corn biscuits, baby food thing in a yellow squeezy packet, Mummy’s awesome tasty homemade healthy muesli bars.
Yesterday and for five months prior to this, the yellow baby food squeezy thingies were pronounced so yummy that we have bought every packet within a three km radius.
Today she has never seen anything so repugnant.
The whinge intensifies and, becoming increasingly enraged and engulfed by hunger (having not eaten for a whole half-hour), she points desperately to jars of Pataks curry paste, dry pasta, raw onions….
Raisins are finally accepted.
Of course she accidentally upends the box.
All the raisins end up on the floor. Obviously.
2. “Helping” with housework
Magoo loves to help me with housework, and of course we are keen to encourage her because there will be a time in the not-too-distant future when we will inevitably say: “You treat this house like a hotel” and she will inevitably reply: “I didn’t ask to be born!”.
Sweeping the floor is her chore-du-jour. I sweep with the big-Mummy-broom and she follows me around with a dustpan and brush, counter-sweeping my neat little piles into expressive arcs of dust and crumbs.
“Time to swap brushes!” I announce, so I can hastily round up my dust piles and chuck them in the bin before she makes even more mess.
She grabs the big-Mummy-broom and uses it to test the timbre of various household items.
This shouldn’t really be on the list, as swearing is always easy – it’s just that it shouldn’t be so easy now that Magoo parrots everything we say. So let’s say NOT swearing is difficult.
Anyway, it was more of an excuse to write “side-wank”, which is the swear-word of the day. Side-wank means wanking-on-the-run, i.e. on the way to the post box. I’m not sure how it’s actually done so I might do a follow-up post on this topic.
Do you have any new swear-words you’d like to share but can’t?
What used to be simple and is now oh-so-Stephen-Hawkingly difficult?
Write to me!