Thursday, 2 May 2013

Daddy did not go to work today, which was a huge treat for him because it meant that he got to come and see me being wonderful and clever in my baby classes instead!

This was very lucky for daddy but a bit of a problem for mummy and me, because whenever daddy is at home with us we always end up being late for things. I don't know why this is. Maybe it's because whenever it's time for us to go somewhere, mummy starts flapping about like a big crazy bird and squawking for daddy to hurry up because we're going to be late ... and then daddy starts moving even more slowly than usual, just to be naughty. This is very brave of daddy because it makes squawking mummy even more angry, and it also makes us even later than we were already.

Anyway, because of daddy's lateness I nearly missed the start of my climbing class, and I had to run all the way down the path to get into the climbing room before the lesson started. I don't think anybody noticed, though, and when the class started I had a really good time showing off my skills to the parent staff.

When we got home from climbing class we had our lunch out in the yard, and then we played some games and read stories until nap time.

This afternoon I had swimming class, and I got to show off more of my brilliantness for daddy.

When we went back home after swimming, I got into a bit of a brawl with the parent staff because I'm having issues with bedtime at the moment, and the parent staff had told me that it was nearly time for bed. I started crying very loudly, to let the parent staff know how rubbish I think bedtime is, and then daddy put me on the landing for some "time out".

I stopped crying pretty much straight away because I wasn't properly crying anyway, just making lots of noise, and there's no point in making lots of noise when there's no one around to hear you. Daddy came back upstairs to talk to me and I didn't want to hear the boring things that he was about to say, so I tried to distract him before he could start speaking. As he was walking up the stairs I peered down at him and said, "He-yo daddy-boy!" very cheerfully, and then I poked my foot at his nose and  said, "Oh wow, look, a foot!"

Daddy was obviously not very impressed with my foot, because he kept his stern face on and he still gave me his boring talk about not crying at bedtime ... but I think that mummy must have heard me as well, because I'm pretty sure that I could hear her giggling in the living room downstairs.

After daddy had brought me back downstairs we played a few more games until it was time for my bath, but the brawl carried on pretty much all the way up until bedtime. I was kind of hoping that if the parent staff realised how much I didn't want it to be bedtime, then maybe they wouldn't make it happen. So I cried about walking upstairs ... about taking my shoes off ... about going in the bath ... about getting out of the bath ... about being dried ... and about going to bed.

It didn't work though, because the parent staff still put me to bed, and they were very cross about all of the crying. So cross that they wouldn't even read me a bedtime story. That was the one part that I wouldn't have cried about, as well.

When they put me into my cot, both parent staff said that they hoped I would be a nicer girl at bedtime tomorrow night. Maybe if they were nicer staff, then I would be a nicer girl.


No comments:

Post a Comment