Monday, April 09, 2012

The summer vacations begin...

...yes, that's me cowering and whimpering in fear in the bathroom while hellions of assorted sizes romp through my house decimating all the decor and jumping on the sofas and creating the kind of wall art that makes a home look so warm and welcoming and lived in enough to make you want to live out of it. Anyway, I digress. The moot point being that the summer vacation has begun and this mandates that at any given point the brat and friends are doing the pack dog run thing through the premises both within and without the home.
He does have karate camp in the mornings and tuitions at some point in the day, but the rest of the has him as free as a kite and doing the utmost to ensure I pull out each strand of my hair in the singular to channel the Sinead O'Connor look.
The other day, he brought in around 8 pintsizes with him back from the part to play on the Playstation. Naturally bloodied wars broke out for the control panel. They were reined back by timely intervention on my part which involved a fair bit of yelling and some whistle blowing, and the threat of stern and immediate action which involved a ban on carbonated beverage. Ah well, I'm not the perfect mom. I serve carbonated beverage and no juices.
Order was restored grudgingly and carbonated beverage served, and Playstation turned off and Green Lantern Blu Ray inserted in home theatre system and I settled back with an old Wodehouse to restore the nerves to calm and coolth. Shot out of my skin the next second with the eyeballs springing out of the sockets with sound waves causing mini vibrations down to the basement of the 20 storey apartment block we lived in. Ran in, grabbed possession of the remote and got the sound to acceptable levels but surely not before the undead were roused from neighbouring cemetries.
They watched the movie in relative peace and calm until calls on the intercom demanded their immediate returns this very second to their respective homes at which point, the brat was left alone, watching the movie. He demanded I come sit next to him, which I did. After around five minutes he began whining. "I'm feeling boredt. Can I go to N's house." I refused sternly. I insisted he find things to occupy himself with. Drawing, colouring, reading and such like being part of such activities designed to alleviate boredom.
"No," he shook his head firmly. "Dat's boreding. I wantu play superhero gamez. Wid my frens. I wantu be Green Landturn."
I tried gently to persuade him to draw and colour the Green Lantern, but that was boreding too.Finally I was forced to acknowledge that unlike me, who was quite content being a loner, and disappearing into the world of books, the child was of the opposite variety, the social animal. Ergo, to rein him in and to expect him to sketch and paint was tantamount to cruelty on my part. And I was not definitely going up the garden path that involved either a sibling or an animal, ergo, all I could do was to ensure he got enough play time with his friends. Reluctantly, I insisted he feed himself and remove himself to a friend's home. I could also do with the peace and quiet that would ensue, I convinced myself. But then, I found myself missing the noise and called him right back with all the trail of pintsizes. Yes, somewhere I have a gene that says Masochist on its coding.

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