Monday 25 April 2011

Great Eggspectations

I am having a few days off from the Axis, who have gone to stay with their father over the Easter weekend. It was pointed out to me by some observant soul that I haven't written anything yet this year; is it because the Axis have been exceedingly well-behaved and thus I am running a little short of subject matter? Alas, not so. Where to begin? Perhaps the days preceding this wondrous and temporary exodus would be a good start...

In common with all parents of small children I have great worries over sleep. Now, the Axis aren't too bad at going to sleep and staying asleep - probably because of the horrendous and active commotion they sustain while awake - but they are little pigs when they are tired in the day. Whining, moaning, demanding sweets, kicking things - the only way to shut them up is to remove them from the house. Last Sunday I was facing a whole afternoon of such horror when the phone rang. It was my lovely friend Susie who has two girls the same age as the Axis. The four of them get along famously, which is probably why last summer we decided to chuck them all in the bath together after a day rolling in mud, which delighted the Axis and horrified the wailing girls. Today, however, Susie was staring down the barrel of the same gun as me and was ringing in the hope that we could better manage the children as a herd. She proposed taking the scooters down to the city farm cafe. Pigs and coffee are two of my favourite things so I didn't hesitate. 'We'll leave now,' I confidently assured her. Yeah, right.


As I put down the phone I turned around and saw a quieted, but slightly sheepish-looking Kong holding an empty plastic cup. 'Kongie! Did you drink all your water? You good boy!' Kong grinned a wolfish, unnerving grin. 'YEH!' he screeched. I looked around and saw an enormous wet patch on the sofa. Was it the water? Or was it...something else? I approached with caution and sniffed. Phew. Only water. But still - better soak it up before leaving.

I went in search of a tea towel to mop up the offending mess. When I got back the Kong was holding the phone and was shouting into it. He'd put it on loudspeaker, so I could hear what was going on. I assumed he'd hit redial and got my dad, and continued with the mopping. Suddenly I froze in horror at the voice's next words: 'I said, what service do you require? Police, fire, ambulance? Hello? Hello?'

Wretched Kong had rung 999. I grabbed the phone and cut it off, swearing. Then I remembered that, unsurprisingly, the Pie had done the exact same thing at a very similar age, and that, if the operator gets no response, they ring back the number until they do. What to do? Obviously I couldn't ring 999 in an attempt to explain my wayward infant's emergency phonecalls. I would have to wait.

After about 20 minutes, during which the Kong had to be changed into dry clothes twice as a result of his insistence on sitting on the puddle he'd created, it became clear that the Chancellor's axe had indeed fallen on our brothers and sisters in the emergency services and as a result, the Kong and I were in the clear. More muttered curses ensued as I shoehorned the Axis into the car and sped off.

When we arrived, Susie was sitting on the wall in front of her house, trying to placate a whining Older Girl and contain a wriggling Smaller Girl. Lots of mad apologies ensued as Susie tried to reassure me that it was fine and I apologised for being late again: 'It was the Kong...just after I got off the phone to you, he threw a glass of water all over the floor. While I was cleaning it up, he rang 999.' Although I was smiling, my heart was sinking. Susie didn't believe me. I'm not sure I did, either.