When Junior Came to Stay at Aunty Am’s House
Mr S and I are luck enough to have two lovely nephews, one on his side (8 months old) and one on my side; little junior. He’s nearly four and a funny little bugger.
With daddy off to the races and mummy working hard, we offered to watch him for the weekend. How hard could it be? We had him in a few times, but not for about a year. He was a delightful baby, no trouble.
Having no nippers of our own yet, we love the simple pleasure of taking him to the park or just reading him a book, and hearing his gorgeous chuckles.. I can almost hear you’re smirky, knowing remarks of “Just you wait and see!” Haha. Freya had also warned me. With cries of “Why would you offer?!” We know we are blissfully ignorant of the reality of full time parenthood.
This weekend gave us a little taster. Little did we know that the good little boy we see quite regularly, becomes the devil child in certain scenarios.
Here’s a few of them:
1. Mowing the lawn:
My nephew has a full blown, borderline weird obsession with the lawn mower. Or ‘Grasshoover’ as he calls it. He has two toy grasshoovers . He even brought one over for the weekend to help Uncle Feral in the garden (we have four lawns and he knows all about it!)
Unfortunately it rained on Saturday, scuppering the mowing plans. Which didn’t go down well at all. Lots of tears, lots of screaming. As if, the rain was our fault.
His Grasshoover isn’t very good though ‘it doesn’t make the right noise” and he always wants to swap it with the real version. “But I want to play with Uncle Feral’s BIG ONE!” He announced loudly while we were out walking on Sunday in a busy park with his toy mower. Splendid. We weren’t redfaced at all, not one bit. Fucking hell.
Oh and yes we were the only dickheads in the park with a toy lawn mower.
2. The Supermarket:
Mr S decided to take Junior out on Saturday morning after breakfast for a little walk to the supermarket. (I was working a 9-1.) He was brave, he was going it alone. They were going to buy a few bits for lunch and an exciting new book for Saturday night bedtime. J decided that the supermarket was his own personal playground and proceeded to run around knocking items of shelves and screaming that he wanted the ‘Let it go’ cereal, frozen cereal! Mr S being unaccustomed to dealing with tantrums alone was afraid and unprepared to deal with this shit. He bought two boxes of the cereal and every other item demanded by our very own three year old Hitler.
£40 quid down and attempting to leave the supermarket Junior feral hit the floor in a dive that would have rivalled one of Ronaldo’s, he didn’t want to leave Asda. At this point Mr S was skint, sweating cobs, dragging Junior out of the shop; smiling bashfully at onlookers and dying inside.
-At 10.05 I received an anguished cry for help phone call at work, “When are you coming home?”. Eighty-five minutes in, and he was already a broken man.
-At 11:35 I received another phone call simply stating, “I don’t think I want kids anymore!”
3. The shower:
Junior Feral used every trick in the book for the whole weekend trying to avoid washing his body!
“I can’t Aunty Feral, I’ve got the kitchen pox!” He had the chicken pox a couple of weeks ago, and a few scars are still visible, nice try though.
“I can’t Aunty Feral, uncle Feral smells he needs to go in.”
“I can’t the plug will swallow me!”
“I can’t I don’t like the hearts!” I have a few hanging hearts in my shabby chic bathroom, well everywhere.
On one occasion Mr S was supervising the shower and junior was having a whale of time snapping up the bar of soap while Mr S scrubbed his body. Unfortunately for Mr S, junior dropped the soap while having a dance and slipped knocking his eye. It must have really hurt, but he only cried for 30 seconds and then laughed and said, “Oops I’m silly!” Apart from the obvious horror that he had hurt himself in our care, we were mortified for the whole weekend thinking that people would wonder if we’d right-hooked him!
4. The Park:
We decided to take him to the park for an hour on Saturday evening before tea. We had a marvellous time on the giant seesaw doing the bumps (all three of us-two big kids and one small). Junior loves the swings and was drawing attention from all angles with his amazing chuckle, pure joy. When he is excited junior doesn’t pay attention to his feet, he left us with our heart in our mouths a few times, but he had a whale of a time.
Until we had to leave…🙈
Well, that was it. All hell broke lose, he lost his absolute shit.
“I’m not leaving, I’m staying here with my friends!” There was screaming, sobbing and uncontrollable shouts of hatred towards us. We were the devil for taking him home. We tried the “Right, well we will leave you here then. Bye. See you later!” tack. Not arsed, he was staying put. Resulting in Mr S scooping up a rigid, screaming, kicking three year old and running out of the park in horror.
Well, fuck me sideways. Need I say more?
Despite all this. He is the most amazing, clever little boy and I don’t half love him. He loves Uncle Feral more than he loves me though, because men are just fucking ace aren’t they?! I’m not bitter about it, not at all.
It hasn’t put me off having children, but as I sit here in my pyjamas writing this I’m kind of thinking I might wait another few months before broaching the topic with Mr S again. Who, by the way, has been snoozing on the other sofa since my brother picked the little cherub up three hours ago.
Lots of Love,
Quotes made using Typorama. Animal face photos edited with app ‘Animal face’.