Our house is a war zone right now. Us (or actually just me) vs. the toys.
They are bloody everywhere, slowly creeping into every nook and cranny, claiming room after room for their own. In my shoes, in my bed, in my handbag, even in the freezer?!
If the situation was serious before, Christmas certainly didn’t help. Arriving home with a car that looked like the getaway vehicle in a Toys R Us smash and grab has lead to far too many storage solution related dreams #FML.
I was not prepared to take it lying down so there was only one thing for it – we needed a big clear out. The only thing in my way was a small, blonde, noisy thing but I reasoned that I could appeal to his better nature.
But, um, have you ever asked a child to help select a few of his old toys to give away?
Yep so altruism hasn’t really happened yet. Whatever, I just got stuck in anyway – he couldn’t still want all of the old broken sh*t right?
TBH I found it pretty hard myself. When the eldest was a toddler he had a favourite emergency vehicle set we used to play with – he was always the ambulance and I was always the police car. He used to call it ‘Mummy’s police car’ awwwww.
Hours of my life I’ll never get back there but my mind must have blocked out the monotonous boredom of it all because now when I see it I’m like…
Even though it had no windows left and looks like a burnt out wreck some kids took for a joy ride.
GET A GRIP!!!
Best thing, I thought, is to do it once he’s in bed. Have a gin to psyche yourself up – be ruthless!
Why didn’t I think of it sooner? He didn’t even notice any of it was missing the next day!
I stashed the loot safely in charity bags beneath the stairs and then promptly forgot about it until I asked him to get his shoes on and…
Lesson: Never trust a kid to carry out a simple task without rummaging.
Toys 1 : Me 0
**************P.S. I have a new book OUT NOW! You can nab it on Amazon here or in your lovely local bookshop :)