“Toily! Toily! Toily!” screamed our three year old, just inches from her older brother’s sleeping head.
The three year old in this story was Miss10 seven years ago, and the older brother was Master22 when he was fifteen.
Master22 was home for a few days recently, visiting us and all the local relatives. He usually hangs out afternoon and evening here before we drop him down to Grandma and Grandad’s for some shuteye. As usual, amidst the chatting, laughs, games and good food we did that thing where you relive those moments which have entered into family lore. The story which had us nearly in tears was this one where the 3 year old Miss10 was toilet training and, instead of waking Tracey or myself up in the middle of the night, she very pleasingly raced into her big brother’s room with her dolly tucked under her arm.
“Toily!” she bellowed again.
Our oldest child woke with a start and saw the urgency on his young sister’s face. Clearly there was no time to quietly suggest she make her way to Mum and Dad’s bedroom. He’s always been a champion with his younger siblings and being a trooper, he rallied himself quickly. Do I sound proud? It’s because I am.
“Right,” he said, throwing off the blankets and swinging his legs onto the floor. “Let’s…toilet…go.”
He picked his sister up and, holding her out in front of him just in case, rushed to the bathroom.
“There,” he said, setting her down in front of the toilet and glancing at his watch. 2am.
“Tank you,” said his sister, all the urgency having evaporated from her voice.
But she didn’t move to take off her undies or scramble onto the loo. Instead she pulled her dolly from under her arm.
“Quickly,” said her big brother, images of having to mop up a puddle playing on his mind. “Get on the toilet.”
His little sister smiled at him.
“Not me,” she said. “Dolly go toily.”
With that she plonked her dolly on the loo and then set about flushing the loo.
“Which explains,” grinned Master22, when he finished his story and managed to get a few words out, “why I sleep at Grandma and Grandad’s place when I visit. It’s not the lack of beds. It’s the lack of sleep.”
So, of course, now I’m thinking, ‘Grandma and Grandad’s place! Why haven’t I thought of that?!’
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“Raising a family on little more than laughs.”