The Case of the Deadly Dora


“Bedtime,” I called out to my munchkins earlier tonight, and got the usual chorus of responses.

“I’m thirsty!”

“I’m hungry!”

“I’m need to go to the toilet!”

This frustrates me. No one ever yells out, “I’m still picking up my toys!”

And it’s not like we randomly change bedtime, so it shouldn’t come as a surprise every single night. We don’t, for example, tuck them in at 5pm one day and then, on a whim, 9pm the next.

I raced around mustering them towards their rooms and eventually managed five out of five in their beds. But we weren’t done yet.

“Where’s your pillow and doona?” I asked Miss3. She was lying on a bed made with nothing but a bottom sheet.

“I show you,” she told me, and shot out of bed and past me before I could say anything else. Thirty seconds later she reappeared at her bedroom door with her pillow in one arm and dragging her doona with the other. She’d probably been using them to make a cubby house in one of the other rooms.

I settled her back into bed and decided to lie beside and chat for a second. It’s one of my favourite parts of the day – lying, chatting with them or tickling them or pretending to sleep on them and having them chuckle and laugh, and then big kisses and hugs before moving onto the next kid.

I threw myself down onto her pillow, ready to snore loudly in her ear.

“JEEZ!” I yelled, abruptly sitting up as pain shot through my skull. “What the…???”

“I show you,” said Miss3, ignoring my outburst and subsequent rubbing of my scalp. “I got presents.”

And out of her pillow she pulled a Dora doll, a soft puppy and some Barbie furniture. I suspect my sore head was from Dora bashing me over the head with the dining table. The puppy looked too innocent to be involved in any rough play.

Anyway, I shouldn’t complain. At least they were off the floor 🙂

 dora's questions were really hard today


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