It started last night. TB was complaining non-stop that he was hungry, despite having done nothing but eat since walking through the door just after 3. Mr A was being demanding and refusing to be put down. The husband was working and couldn’t stop. Finally he finished the work and took Mr A so I could get tea started. Yes it was a school night and yes it was nearly 7.
So I had the curry as good as ready and all that I needed to do was cook some rice. I opened the can we keep it in to see precisely three grains of rice. Great. I sent the husband out to the supermarket and went upstairs to run Mr A a bath. I needed the loo so I got TB to watch over Mr A whilst he was lying on the bed. Normally that wouldn’t be a problem.
But the bathroom door opened and in came TB with Mr A hooked over his arms. He carefully laid him down on his mat until he got to his head. Thud. Luckily Mr A didn’t cry and was ok but I freaked. Unsurprisingly. We had a big talk about how he should only pick Mr A up when he had an adult to help him. He knows the rules; they’re the same with his baby cousin.
This evening the husband went to give Mr A his bath. I’ve asked him plenty of times before not to use the wicker laundry basket as a bath stand; it’s not strong enough. I asked him again tonight not to do it. I was only across the hall when I heard the scream. The bath had fallen off of the basket and spilled its entire contents over the bathroom floor. Luckily Mr A wasn’t inside when it happened. Then TB called up to let us know that there was water coming through the kitchen ceiling. The husband was very lucky it was only a few drips.
Yeah. I’m hoping tomorrow is a lot lot better.
it was just a drip…
and there wasn’t a scream… just me shouting shit!
.-= urbanvox said Stop The Press! =-.
And it was alot better – You got to see us!!
xx
.-= Emma said The Toddler Years =-.