Hubby was sent to the front line as the Final Straw tonight.
He made that climb up the stairs to ‘have a word’ with Mia after she’d been out of bed for about the millionth time (Ok ok so I’m exaggerating, but when you’re juggling slicing onions and making star-shaped sandwiches for a packed lunch at the same time) well, let me tell you, it sure feels like the millionth time.
Hubby: “Mia, this is too much now. It’s sleepy time and you must get some sleep or you won’t have enough energy to play tomorrow will you? I just want you to get enough sleep so you feel great in the morning. OK little one?”
He’s so much more diplomatic than me with her.
She looks up at him with big doe eyes like she’s listening to every word that comes out of his wise old mouth and sure is going to do what all-knowing daddy says because he told her so nicely and calmly.
Then she obviously remembers herself, snatches up her duvet cover, turns to face the wall, and with as much distain as she can muster declares: “you’re so rude daddy!”