It’s been a week of learning.
A week of realisation.
A week of being bored to tears.
But all that is over. The Boy is back and already I have had tears and tantrums, screams of: “It’s not fair!” and “I’m telling!” closely followed by: “I hate you.”
But as soon as I suggested that perhaps Bog Boy should go off to his other Grandparents on his own for a week without The Boy there was an about turn. They hugged each other and looked at me reproachfully as if I was about to tear them from each other’s arms forever.
“So that’s a no then?” I said raising my eyebrow.
Bog Boy nodded slowly and emphatically as he chewed his bottom lip, presumably to prevent it from wobbling.
The Boy kissing the top of his brother’s head agreed. Then added soulfully: “I love him Mummy.”
That was ten minutes ago and now I am in my office listening to them shouting, fighting and hollering at each other from the back garden. I presume it is good natured for I have had no representations. Perhaps they really do appreciate each other a little more than they did now that they have been apart….
“MUUUUUUUUUMMMMMMM Boy’s got my football and he’s not giving it back!!!!!!”
….or perhaps not.
6 comments:
You bring back so many memories of my own 'little' boys. Now all grown up (thank goodness)
I hope you remember me - Lampworkbeader that was
Mine fight with such ferocity, but love with such passion. It is all or nothing, so I so understand this post
Boys, tsk!
Ah, domestic bliss!
Love this post. So honest and yet so poignant! Mine fight sooo much it's embarrassing to admit how much. Yet when one is away they are constantly thinking about what the other is....
When my youngest boy was learning to sit up, his 3-year-old brother delighted in patting him on the head until he fell over, all the while shouting, "Baby Smacky, Baby Smacky!"
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