I’m trying desperately to sort myself out.

V’s birthday party is on Saturday – so got a lot going on with organising that and LagosDad’s cousin is coming to visit tomorow and is staying with us for ten days – so trying to clear out the guestroom (which has been used for storage for a year).

Apart from that, we’ve got a few other things happening (which I’ll let you know about another time).

Anyway, so am trying (really hard (not really)) to clear up a bit and tidy up.  V left his helicopter (a ride-on that’s not really a helicopter) in my room right by my bed.  The area by my bed is a big enough (organised) mess anyway.  I really didn’t need the helicopter there.

And the conversation went like this…

Me: V – Please come and take your helicopter back to the playroom.

V: No mama, I want to keep it there.

Me: I don’t want you to keep it there.  I want you to take it back to the playroom, please.  I might trip and fall if I don’t see it.

V: You will fall?

Me: Yes.  And I’ll get hurt.

V (thinks for a moment): No problem.  You can just use a plaster.  Then go to the doctor and you’ll feel better.

Dammit

Me: V – I don’t want to go to the doctor.  Please remove your helicopter now.

Thank God he listened (for once!)