Monday, 3 May 2010
Lord of the Flies
What the hell is going on with Charlie and Sam? I'm not used to all this fighting, it's is all new to me. I mean, the girls have their squabbles, but that's more of a sulky, whiny affair with a bit of crying thrown in, not an all out war.
The boys are two and five years old. Even at two, Charlie is a force to be reckoned with. They're the always first up in the morning (6.30am today) and this tends to be when the fighting starts. They get settled in the living room and proceed to shriek at each other over the TV channel, the amount of cereal they have, the volume of the keyboard (which resides in our living room - and yes, I knew this was a terrible idea when we put it there), who gets to open the curtains, etc, etc. Then the physical abuse starts. Charlie has no qualms about picking on his big brother, even though he's almost twice his size. This results in Sam yelping as Charlie slaps him away from his treasured keyboard and steals his toys.
Sam, to his credit, never retaliates, as he knows this would incur a bollocking of epic proportions, so instead he squeals like a pig at the top of his voice until I, or their father, stumble into the living room and play hell with the pair of them. There's absolutely no point in trying to get a lie in when Lord of the Flies is being played out in our living room.
Realising the error of their ways; ten minutes later they're the best of friends, conspiring together on the issue of how to get biscuits out of me. This usually involves a united front of brotherly solidarity, complete with hugs and kisses, lots of giggling and displays of unparallelled generosity with their toys.
Charlie: "You have the toy car Sam"
Sam: "It's OK Charlie, you have it"
Charlie: "Oh, I couldn't possibly"
Sam: "I insist"
Charlie: "Thank you ever so much"
Sam: "You're very welcome"
They then hug, making sure that I'm watching this spectacle.
In unison: "Can we have something nice?"
Me: "OK, seeing as you're being so good"
I distribute bananas and apples (well it is only 7am remember?) Then drag my backside back to bed with a brew.
Sam: "She's gone now, gimme my car back".
Charlie: "Piss off it's mine".