A Good Morning
The Greek God(zilla)’s alarm goes off at 6am every morning. He snoozes for 30-minutes while I respond firstly to Zachy’s call of nature and then to my own.
By 6.30am, we are all up.
The next 30-minutes fly by in a sleep deprived haze.
The Greek God(zilla) uses the bathroom first while I manage to boil the kettle and then unload the dishwasher as teabags brew in their cups.
Back upstairs, clothes are set out on the bed and then so begins the task of trying to dress a 3-year old, who is simultaneously clutching a Buzz Lightyear doll and trying to climb on my back so that I can run around the bedroom with him as he squeals To Infinity and Beyond!
Some days we leave the house better dressed than others.
We still manage to make it downstairs with enough time to have breakfast together. While he eats his weetabix, I apply make-up and we chat about the day ahead.
When I have finished, I look to him and ask “How do I look?” to which he always replies “Like a pretty princess, Mummy”.
I did not even have to teach him that.
On a good day, we have 15-minutes left before we need to leave the house.
Peppa Pig is hurriedly switched on while I rush upstairs to rough dry my hair. I return with Zachy’s toothbrush, shoes and coat.
While he is brushing his teeth, I gather bags, hats, his clean change of clothes and the buggy.
With a minute to spare, shoes are placed on feet and coats are zipped tightly up. The TV is switched off and we are standing by the door and ready to leave.
This is how it works most days.
However last week, on a day that I absolutely could not be late for work, as we were waiting by the front door in all our winter woolies and my arms were weighed down with various bags, equipment and Buzz Lightyear accessories, he turned to me and without a hint of impropriety in his voice said:
“Mummy, I need a poo”
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