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.
Me: V – I don’t want to go to the doctor. Please remove your helicopter now.
Thank God he listened (for once!)