My Tourettes Is Effing Relapsing

“What on Earth is going on in here?” is the sentence which probably should have come out of my mouth. But, when confronted with the entire contents of Miss8’s wardrobe on the floor – well, let’s just say the essence of the question was exactly that but I briefly sounded a little more like a Tarantino film.

“I’m doing what you told me!” explained Miss8.

Unlike mine, that’s a direct quote.

Regarding bad language, I’ve explained to the older kids just because they hear us swear (we aren’t merchant sailers, but we do let fly occasionally because…well…kids…lots of kids) doesn’t mean they can use that sort of language with abandon. I’ve also explained to them we understand they will cuss occasionally around their friends and I’m fine with that for the simple reason you can’t stop them so this means I get cool parenting points for something I can’t do anything about. The rub is if they get caught by an adult and are brought to task they have to wear the consequences.

But back to the effing mess on Miss8’s effing bedroom floor which had come about because I’d asked her to tidy up the clothes in her wardrobe before I gave her the latest washing to sort in.

Maybe I should have expected something like this. If you’ve ever had a conversation with a health care or behavioural specialist which included the word spectrum you’ll know what I’m talking about. Miss8 sometimes likes things done a little differently.

Or, as she sees it, correctly.

And in this case she’d suddenly decided, for whatever reason, baskets of shorts, shirts, undies, skirts and the like wasn’t going to cut it.

“I’m sorting by colours,” she explained to me.

I’m really rather surprised and pleased to say I walked away and let her get on with the job.

“Of course you are,” I mumbled. Although again, if I’m honest, I added a flourish.

But to her credit, she did exactly that.

Sometimes you have to pick your fights so you, and they, can live to fight another effing day.

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“Raising a family on little more than laughs.”