Next up in monster child’s repertoire is how to get out of a situation you don’t want to be in, but the mummy does, nope it doesn’t involve a shiteroni or full blown toddler strop! This is something that has been developed for special use, normally when the mummy is having having coffee with a friend (hold up! This probably happens once or twice a year!), or just generally chatting to someone else who isn’t the monster! You almost see him check his watch, put his hands on his hips and tap his foot before launching into ‘must leave right now’ mode.
‘Up!’ He demands. So you stand there and put your hand on their head – reassurance that you know they are there I’ve seen it on a perfect parenting post on pinterest somewhere – other hand is normally possessively grasping a chocolate muffin. “UP!” Eh? Who let the Drill Sergeant Monster in? “Hang on a minute mister” the most popular and utterly useless phrase in my vocabulary. Does he understand? Hell no! “UP UP UUUURGHPPPPP!”, everyone is staring, pick the terror up! “Horay, I’m winning!” He smirks.
Normal conversation can assume, but I’m – now – well aware of what’s to come. Two tiny terror hands clamped over my ears, forcing me to look at him then he let’s go. “Awww Hehehe!” is normally the response the person I’m talking to gives. Aww? What’s cute about this? He’s basically saying ‘Mummy she’s so boring, stop talking to her and look at me instead’, this kid has the ability to make being socially rude cute! The little hands clamp on my ears however many times it takes me to say bye. Increasing in frequency until you can’t say more than one word without whiplash from the monster redirecting your face. He then snuggles me, pretending to be all possessive and clinging on like a baby orangutan until out of eyesight, he then protests that I’m holding him and can’t get away from me quick enough. Little shit! I’ve probably just abandoned a cup full of coffee that I wouldn’t have to wash up, or more importantly a cake that I’d been secretly stuffing in my face. I imagine he would be doing this if he could…
Tear me away from something I was enjoying, something resembling ‘me time’ (a conversation with another adult now counts at me time!) and then drop me like a fart bomb. Bloody good job I love him. Terror.