03 February 2007

The Changeling Boy

Once upon a time there lived a little boy who was the personification of sweetness, goodness and all things that parents wish their children to be. Then one morning he woke up and decided that that was that. He had had enough of being nice and now it was time to be a three year old. He argued that black was white and vice versa, dictated the terms under which his family would live, developed personality quirks that would keep psychiatrists in jobs for years, demanded, sulked, refused and whined at everything and everyone in his path. Until one day his parents had enough and shipped him off to his grandparents.
.
.
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I wish!

9 comments:

Mrs Thistletwat said...

Sounds like your average male, shame I can't ship Mr T off to his grandparents :-)

Stomper Girl said...

That happened at our house too! Not the shipping off to the grandparents part, but everything else. Both times (well, we're still bang in the midst of three-ness here with #2). I don't know why people crap on about terrible twos. Both my kids were angelic and pliable at 2. Three has been much more work. Still a wonderful age, lots of fun but does every-bloody-thing have to be a fight? They come good again at Four, if you're worried!.

h&b said...

hee hee hee !

I read this out loud to my mother ( who is living with us at the moment ;)

Molly said...

Just like that? Do you suppose the parents will ever let him come back?

velcro said...

Alas we can't ship the FB off either. His grandparents live at the other end of the country. "twas just wishful thinking. He's sitting on the floor at the other end of the couch from me munching on a peanut butter biscuit we baked yesterday together.
Stomper, you've given me hope. 7 1/2 months to go till he turns 4.

meggie said...

There is something about males....
Good Luck with it all!

aunty evil said...

good luck!!

Can't say I can relate, but I have enough nieces and nephews to know that in a short time, you are going to start looking v e r y tired!

velcro said...

what you mean even more exhausted than I currently look. Am not sure that is actually possible. Currently resemble wrung out sponge with bags under the eyes large enough to carry Posh's complete wardrobe.

And on that note I'm off to bed. Good night to those of you on the North, good morning to those of you Down Under.

My float said...

Hey, you left your kid at my house! Oh wait, that's MY three year old! Little dictator is what we call him. Once I painted on a little black moustache, mainly to amuse myself on a very glum boring day. Worked a treat!