Wednesday’s are the craziest mornings of the week. The day that I have to get both babies up and out of the house by 7.15am to go to the childminders. I get the feeling that Matilda likes to use these opportunities when the lady of the manor isn’t around to test me. She pushes a few buttons to see if she can get a reaction. You have to stay strong, don’t show your weakness. Not easy when the conversation goes something like this.
Matilda – more crunchy nuts mummy
Me – you mean more crunchy nuts DADDY
Matilda – toast mummy
Me – can I have some toast DADDY
Matilda – Mummy, read a book
Me – Daddy, DADDY read a book
She knows, don’t let the innocent face confuse you, she knows exactly what she’s doing. She know’s that it winds me up that she forgets my name and would rather be with mummy. But it didn’t stop there, I herded them both into the car and we set off. All was quiet to begin with, happily looking out of the window and then a little voice perked up.
Matilda – Tilda is a big girl
Me – yes, that’s right and what’s Henry?
Matilda – Enry is a boy
Me – clever girl, what about Daddy? Is he a boy or a girl?
Matilda – Daddy is a big girl!
And there we have it, 2 years old and already taking the piss out of her dad. But don’t worry little girl, daddy’s got lots of photos of you rudey nudey filed away and ready for a slide show when I give me father of the bride speech.