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Oh ho ho. Those boys. (*raising eyes heavenwards*)

Before I continue, in yet another ‘riveting’ and hopefully slightly amusing diatribe/ rant about the joys of motherhood, I should like to first say; much of the time, my boys are glorious little creatures. Full of fun and energy, and all that sort of thing. Kind and sweet natured and all round cute. In my opinion, anyway.

However, every so often, they pull little stunts that leave me feeling just a leeeeeetle bit worried.

We’ll focus on DB2 for now. In particular, DB2’s slightly disturbing (but also, worryingly, slightly cool) attitude to authority.

I think it’s safe to say, at the tender age of 18 months, he’s shaping up to be a rebel.

What evidence do we have to support this, you are probably wondering. Well, it’s just the small things that give us worrying suspicions. E.g:

1) He would rather go without food, even chocolate, than say ‘please’. Just for the record, he can say please. He can say it just fine. He knows how to apply the word, and use it in the right context. But, every so often, he gets a little steely glint in his eye that says ‘no.’ ‘Screw you, mother. I’m not uttering your fool word, you crazy mutha-f***a’.
Seriously, I can see it in his eyes. It panics me, but I also kind of have begrudging respect for it.

2) He does things he knows he shouldn’t. Now of course, every toddler does this, to an extent.
But I’ll wager not to the same extent as DB2.
DB2 seems to take a great delight in doing an ‘illegal’ activity, whether it’s wrenching all the DVDS off the shelf, beating the sh*t out of the laptop when I think it’s safe to run out for a quick loo break when working, grabbing the phone off the table and trying to call someone….all these things he does, with great glee, but also with great attitude.
The face says it all. ‘Just try and stop me. Oh yes, you can shout. You can hare across the room, flailing your arms and begging me to desist. But you know what? I ain’t going to. So deal with it.
That sort of thing. Most off putting, when the child suddenly gains far more authority and power than the parent.

In toddler group recently, we’ve had a few other events that have, shall we say, highlighted this issue.

Obviously, there was NativityGate. For the unfamiliar, this was the occasion where DB2 mounted the stage and hurled baby Jesus into the audience. In addition to destroying the Christmas tree and bellowing so loudly during the kindly vicar’s prayer at the end, that no sod could hear him. (cringe.)

But we also have a little reoccurring incident, which focuses around DB2s precious car.

Do you remember those little push along red and yellow plastic cars? They had them when we were kids. You basically climb in, then push yourself along with your feet, Fred Flintstone style.

Well, DB2 is obsessed with the one at toddler group. I’m fairly sure he thinks it’s his. He certainly spends a lot of time in it.

Woe betide the child who tries to have a go in it when Db2 is waddling over to get back into the driving seat. One word. Carnage.

Have you ever played Grand Theft Auto? You know when you have to rob a car, and you get your man to literally pounce on a car, haul the door roughly open, then unceremoniously yank the driver out?

Thats what DB2 does.

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just like that.

If that wasn’t embarrassing enough, my 18 month performing violent ‘take down’ manoeuvres on all other toddlers who dare to try to use ‘his’ car, we also had another car related incident this morning. This one, I do confess, made me laugh a bit. (ahem. Quite a lot actually.)

DB2 was in ‘his’ car, just chilling out in it as usual, kicking back with an arm draped casually over the little plastic door.

Another kid, about twice DB2s age, lumbered over and commanded DB2 to ‘get out now’.

DB2 calmly eyed him, saying nothing.

The kid tried to pull open the door, getting more and more worked up and frustrated. Again, Db2 didn’t bat an eyelid, just watched silently.

The kid, by now highly red faced and reaching a crescendo of shouting, leapt to the front of the car, hammered at the bonnet and shouted ‘I HATE YOU! GET OUT!’ at DB2.

DB2 allowed him to continue for a while. Before suddenly, with no warning at all, he hauled the car into ‘drive’, powering his little legs as hard as they would go, and literally ran the poor kid over.

Seriously, this child was, at one point, pretty much trapped and helpless under the mass of plastic, before DB2 calmly reversed, drove back over him, then casually leant out of the window, just to check he’d done the job properly, I presume. The kid ran howling off to it’s mother (who thank god, hadn’t witnessed this horrific, brutal incident.). DB2 coolly watched the kid depart before silently getting out of the car, and toddling off, as though to say ‘I’ve made my point here. There is now no confusion as to who owns the car.’

I was mortified, yet strangely impressed. ‘My god’, I found myself thinking, as I watched him smoothly move over to the Wendy house and start playing, all innocence and sweetness. ‘That was actually, in a worrying way…a bit cool.’

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Perhaps DB2 is the next cool dude driving hero…

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