Friday, 15 March 2013

Today I have done something that I have wanted to do since I was very tiny.

I have stolen daddy's playroom.

The playroom is next to the living room. It has a small fireplace (with no fire in it), some shelves covered in books, and a little blue sofa. For as long as I can remember, it has also been full of things that are daddy's: a desk, a computer, a bike, and piles and piles of things that daddy has hidden in there to stop mummy from throwing them away. (Daddy doesn't like to throw things away. Once he hid a dirty yellow kettle that mummy had tried to put in the bin because it didn't work any more. Daddy said that we should keep the kettle because it was "special", and then he hid it in his playroom behind a pile of coats. Grown-ups are weird.)

Every few days I like to go into daddy's playroom, to see if anything interesting is happening in there. Sometimes I find Harvey snoozing on the sofa, but usually it just looks the same as ever: messy and dusty and full of things that have escaped from the bin.

The parent staff like to argue about the playroom now and then. Mummy will stick her nose through the door and find something that she told daddy to throw away a few weeks ago (like the yellow kettle), and then she will get cross and tell daddy that he will not be allowed a playroom of his own if all he uses it for is hiding rubbish from her.

This has always been very interesting to me because if mummy took away daddy's playroom, then surely this means that the playroom would be up for grabs ... and I have lots of toys that need somewhere nice to live. I would actually use the playroom for playing in instead of for hiding things, as well, so mummy wouldn't need to get so cross about it any more.

With this in mind, I have been dropping gentle hints to the parent staff since Christmas time, when my toy supply grew so big that it started to fill half of the living room. I have been leaving toys and books all over the house, to trip the parent staff up, and I have also started calling the living room "the playroom". This makes the parent staff say "This isn't the playroom, Georgia, it's the living room" ... and then they look guilty because they remember that I don't have a playroom, and that my toys have to share their home with all the boring grown-up stuff.

Other people have been helping me with my mission as well. For Christmas Auntie Beccy gave me a tent. The parent staff had asked for a "small, pop-up tent" (boring!!), but instead Auntie Beccy found a big, fat circus tent that has enough room in it for me, daddy, my tea set, and many toys. It doesn't pop up, either, and it takes the staff ages to put it down ... so now it has to stay up all the time, taking up space in the hallway. The parent staff growl about this and they give the tent cross looks every time they see it, but me and Auntie Beccy think that it is funny, because it is. Ha ha ha.

The grandparent staff helped as well, because for my birthday they gave me enough presents to fill a small room. When I had finished unwrapping my train set, my toy cot, my new books, cuddly toys, dolls, and jigsaws, mummy finally decided that enough was enough, and that I needed to have a playroom of my own.


Daddy complained a little bit, but I think that secretly he just wanted to have his living room back ... so he wasn't too sad today when we took all of his things out of the playroom and moved my toys in there instead.

It took us a loooooong time, and the parent staff filled two big black bags with stuff to throw away (very tragic for daddy). I helped by carrying things from the living room to the playroom, and stopping to play with them on the way; so the parent staff kept coming out of the playroom with their arms full of rubbish and tripping over me while I was crouching down on the floor. Whoops.

Just as we had finished setting up my playroom (which looked really cool, by the way), my friend Olivia came round to play, and so I had great fun showing her my new room, with all of my toys and my tent, and my table and chairs with the paper and crayons that are there for me to make my "art". I felt very pleased with myself.

Later in the day Auntie Beccy came round to play as well, and mummy let me eat my dinner at my table in the playroom, as a special treat.

The living room looks very empty and boring now, like it did when I was very small (before I started to take over the whole house, and let the parent staff know who is really in charge).

 Mummy has put my toy cot at the bottom of my real cot in my bedroom, and it has a few soft toys in it so that I have someone to talk to when I go to bed.

This is what I am doing now, instead of sleeping. I'm telling all the soft toys about my new playroom ... and they all look really impressed.

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