MM presiding over study table. Brat scrawling unintelligible alphabets. The shape is fine, but he seems to be conserving his crayons as the lettering gets smaller. MM squints at it, convinced that her eyesight is failing.
“Write them bigger..baby..” she says.
But he ignores his mother.
Simply because the pint size creature sitting by them, observing it all, is hopping up and down like a bunny on LSD screaming, “Good job, baba. Beautiful. What nice ABCDs you’ve written!” and clapping away.
Erm – whose approval do you think mattered more?
We pass a toy store and the Brat presses his nose against the window and wistfully looks at a helicopter. Since he rarely asks for anything I walk in to the store. The Bean trails behind, not really caring until she sets eye on a Heffalump (for the uninitiated, this is who and what he is). Her eyes widen with excitement. Obsessed with elephants of all kinds, Heffalump is her dream come true.
The helicopter, it turns out, is for children who are 12+. I turn around regretfully and explain it to the Brat, expecting a full scale tantrum – after all its the first time he’s asked for anything major. The Brat looks a little deflated but shockingly, nods in what might be called an understanding manner. And then grabs his sister around the middle, shoves her up ahead, glares at me mencingly and says in a don’t-mess-with-me tone “BUT YOU HAVE TO BUY BEANIE THE HEFFALUMP! OKAY???!!!”
Err… yes boss.
Need you ask? Of course I bought the damn thing. I certainly wasn’t brave enough to take on their combined force!