Good morning….for me anyway

Because she can’t quite get her tongue around Emily, Miss2 has taken to calling Miss0 the Enemy. It’s cute and, I guess, if you were superseded as the youngest and elevated to middle child, borderline appropriate.

This morning I was woken up before 6am by squawking from the cot. With Christmas fast approaching I decided to improve my chances of receiving a gift from Santa and snuck Miss0 out of the bedroom and into the lounge. I say ‘snuck’ but I mustn’t be as quiet as I think because within fifteen minutes all the other kids in the house had joined me.

“What’s for breakfast?” Master7 asked me.

“Nothing yet,” I whispered.

“But I can smell it,” he said.

“That’s not breakfast,” I explained to him. “Although it does contain last night’s dinner.” I put on a movie and started changing dirty nappies.

Another five minutes, while I was finishing changing Miss0, I noticed Tracey was also awake. She was sitting behind me on the couch, looking miserable.

“What happened?” I asked her. “I was letting you sleep in.” I was a little miffed. If Tracey didn’t want to sleep in I would loved to have traded places with her.

‘You misplaced one,” Tracey told me, pointing at Miss2.

“Really? She was helping me with the baby wipes.”

And not just the wipes, it seems.

“I need wash my hans!” she’d marched in and announced to Tracey without me realizing.

“Wh-wha?” Tracey had muttered.

Miss2 then stuck her hands into Tracey’s sleep-addled face. “I need wash my hans!”

“Why? Whasson ’em?” asked my lovely wife, brushing Miss2’s fingers off her chins and lips and steadfastly refusing to open her eyes.

“Enemy’s poo!”

After which Tracey found the need for sleep was shoved aside in favour of the need to spit and scrub her face.

You know what? I’m glad I got up to the kids this morning and let Tracey stay in bed. After all, she deserves it 😉


When not typing away over here and checking his stats every two minutes

Bruce Devereaux hangs out at his ‘BIG FAMILY little income’ Facebook Page.

’raising a family on little more than laughs’

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