Grumpdom

23 Mar

It’s a weird and wonderful place, filled with unexpected moments and irrational outbursts. The sky is often heavy with doom-ridden clouds. One slight prod and the sudden sharp discharge of thunder can be deafening enough to strike fear into the most fearless of fools.

We visit often. You should go there.  On second thoughts, unless you want to unite with me in a form of common lunacy, it may be better not to.

The looming storm over Grumpdom

After six gloriously sunny days of illness – an apparent but intended contradiction in terms – the boy is back in town!

There’s something endearing about a high temperature, a streaming nose, and being sprayed with a torrent of germs from a hacking cough. It tends to mean the Whirlwind is calm and serene, loving and cuddly.

But now the Hurricane is whipping up once more. Hurrah! He feels well again. Hurrah. “I’m better, Mummy”. Yay! I don’t have to pick dried snot off his cheeks. I no longer have to fill my pockets with crumpled, crusty tissues, the Calpol can go back and party with the rest of its remedial buddies in the medicine cabinet.  Everybody’s happy…right?

With the dropping of the temperature, comes the heaving of the tempest. The waves were calm until approximately 6.22am, when the Kraken rose from the murky depths of its once calm, cosy bed, sending ever-increasing ripples of impending ruin across the landing and down the stairs.

The tempo was set. The morning was going to require immense patience and a repeated, under-the-breath muttering of the Golden Mantra, “Step away from the child, stay out of the loop”. Slurps brew. Smiles inanely. “Step away from the child, stay out of the loop”.

The Kraken didn’t want to have breakfast. Not Cheerios or Weetabix. No, definitely not toast. I should make him some breakfast now. I should choose his breakfast for him. But not porridge. He didn’t want to get dressed. He didn’t want to go to school in his pyjamas either. In fact, he didn’t want to go to school at all. No, he definitely didn’t want to go school naked. And definitely not dressed. He didn’t want to brush his teeth. He didn’t care if his teeth fell out. He hates his teeth anyway. Throw them in the bin. He hates mummy. Mummy is mean. Throw mummy in the bin. She’s the worst Mummy in the world. He wants his ‘real’ Mummy (that’s always a killer). He hates everybody. Throw them alllllllll in the bin. He doesn’t want to live here anymore. It’s the worst place in the world. It’s a mean, nasty house.

Where is everybody? Why is nobody listening to him? (The neighbours probably are). Why is everybody ignoring him? Ok then, he will get dressed now. He’s lost his sticker and mummy might tell the teacher. And anyway, everybody is ignoring him and mummy looks like a complete buffoon singing and dancing around like that. Why is she doing that? Has mummy gone mad? Mummy?

*hands over tetchy tenant of Grumpdom to teacher with absurdly false grin on face.

Happy Friday! Chinchin!

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3 Responses to “Grumpdom”

  1. Stix March 23, 2012 at 19:07 #

    We visit that special place called Grumpdom frequently too! See you there sometime!

  2. adoptandkeepcalm March 23, 2012 at 20:04 #

    Love your blog – and that post definitely made me smile!

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