I kept telling Z it’s Tuesday tomorrow meaning he thought it was school, 8.30 he’s getting up!
He didn’t open a present he wouldn’t open anything and took a book upstairs.
I set up his marble run he loved his one last year, I stupidly thought a wooden one would be more sturdy, I was wrong, then again they are not aimed for baby elephants.
There went the marbles.
Dad left to go for dinner at his mams, 10 minutes later Z decided to open his gifts.
Yes we’re on to a winner.
I’m about to put the washing to dry put some more in and that’s when I notice the empty egg box, 12 eggs posted down the side of the washing machine. Not the day, as I’m attempting to pull out or push the machine back in I jammed my fingers. At this point the funny side went and I entered my own meltdown phase. As I’m cleaning eggs Z is having a crushing time with chocolate in the living room, with the odd unwrapped gift. Operation clean up room number two, even though the kitchen isn’t quite done.
So I shouted at him, off he ran screaming upstairs and jumped on the bed, another part of a broken bed.
So he’s broken my bed and me and it’s not even 2pm.
Down to my parents where to be fair he wasn’t too bad, until he was told no to eggs, next up he tips a tub a of Pringles and proceeds to stamp in them.
I refused to to open up a new tub so he throws his toys, so that’s that home we go.
11.15 last night he was still bouncing about the place.
Today he can not possibly be as wound. He can’t, yesterday he broke me there’s nothing left to break today!