Oh dear oh dear oh dear.
When I was a little girl, well, ok, perhaps not so little; I was prone to throw what OH refers to lovingly as ‘a kong’.
This is a reference to the film by the same name, directed by Peter Jackson; in which one scene depicts the great ape himself getting in a huff about something, and getting very tantrummy, lobbing trees around and stamping his big old monkey feet in a very toddlerish fashion. Apparently, I do the same, when I don’t get my own way.
Hmm. It’s probably true. Ok, I’ll admit it, I am a bit of a Kong at times.
Unfortunately, DB1 seems to have inherited this trait from me. Though arguably, it could be pointed out that, at the age of 2, toddlerish tantrums are somewhat more acceptable than at the age of 30. (if you DID point this out, I would probably have to throw a mega sized Kong at you, just to put you in your place, so I’d advise against it.)
We’ve had several Kong moments today from DB1. ‘No’, or, more accurately, ‘NO!!’, has been the word of the day.
‘Do you want to help mummy tidy away?’
‘DB1, can you come and sit down for lunch?’
‘Do you need your nappy changed?’
And so on and so forth. These ‘no’s’ have also been accompanied by a variety of histrionics, including throwing his person upon the floor, running away down the hallway, and lobbing toys at me.
To accompany the ‘no’s’, we’ve also had some dismally brutish behaviour towards his little friend today, who came to visit. Oh woe betide the child that dares to touch DB1’s vast titanic array of toys! Even the ones he’s got bored of! Even the ones that he’d probably forgotten their very existence! It’s one of those unspoken toddler laws, isn’t it. If I see it, it’s mine. If you’re holding it- automatically mine. Even if I discarded it thirty seconds previously. Still mine. Even if I shat on it in loathing and disgust, the very moment you take an interest in it… Mine. End of discussion.
So, I watched with impotent horror as DB1 proceeded to bawl and bellow at his friend ( yes, more of the lovely word ‘no’) and even at one point, beat her round the head with a building block. Yes, to add to the further mortification, this was the poor friend that he tugged off a chair recently.
The poor kid. I bet she has nightmares that feature my son’s face, looming large over her, stealing all her toys and walloping her with gay abandon.