Ignoring the fact that I dont get more than 3 hours sleep (if I am lucky) and even thats with Lottie on my chest, the fact that I have eliminated most foods, blah blah, then, there probably is an excuse for me morphing into one of "those" mothers last night.
Picked up the newsletter from the nursery, scanning through it I noticed that Cam's group are holding a nativity production. And Cameron has not been selected. Blood boiled, spat drooled as I ranted to Stuart about how we are paying a fortune for the nursery, how cute Cameron is and how I feel he should have a part. I have now discovered a ranting ability so passionate, so fast and so fluid, that I could actually write for any dictator wishing to grace me with some money.
When I finally let Stuart get a word in edgeways, he pointed out that the production was for over 2's. Also, he pointed out the fact that Cam's words are limited to "more", "digger", "car","bus", "juice", "yesh", "nana" (banana). Hardly festive words. Whoops.
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3 comments:
oh dear. pushy parent already. are there any treatments available out there?
Yes, think a bar of galaxy would cure it. I actually think I am loosing the plot ever so slightly. Never mind.....
Ha! I'm sure next year he'll have the leading role - they'll have learned to be terrified of you by then!
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