(no subject)
Shufti has realised that there is a reason behind the term 'terrible twos'. And whilst she adores her young son, battling with him over the simplist of things whilst nearly six months pregnant is becoming increasingly challenging.
Some things, she has tried compromise; battling everything out with Jack is exhausting and he's old enough to decide a few things on his own. If he wants to go out in his froggy overcoat in summer, fine, he'll learn. But motherly instincts have kept a firm stance on the subject of shoes on in the bar, because there's always a niggling worry about broken glass.
"Jack..." Shufti sighs wearily, taking her toddler's hand and sitting him down for the fourteenth time. "You are not going downstairs for dinner without shoes on. We can do this all night but you're going to get very hungry."
Jack gives her a look that seems to enquire 'Is that a challenge?'. But Shufti knows better than to give in at this point, or she'll never succeed again.
"Jack go dinner." he announces, getting up again. Shufti catches him, and he decides to wriggle as she picks him up. He stops wriggling when mummy gives a loud squeal of pain and drops him about a foot.
"You drop me!" he says, glowering at mummy who's clutching her back and making a weird face.
Shufti grimaces, feeling the sharp pain that comes with not lifting things properly whilst pregnant. She tries to stand, but that makes it a hell of a lot worse.
"What do you think we're going to do now Jack?" she asks, with her 'Mummy's not very pleased' face.
"I think... no shoes!" Jack beams and bounces towards the door. "Jack go dinner now, bye bye."
"Jack!" Shufti stares after him, tries to follow, and can't.
"At least send your daddy up, please?" she calls after him, picking up his shoes and slowly attempting to follow.
Some things, she has tried compromise; battling everything out with Jack is exhausting and he's old enough to decide a few things on his own. If he wants to go out in his froggy overcoat in summer, fine, he'll learn. But motherly instincts have kept a firm stance on the subject of shoes on in the bar, because there's always a niggling worry about broken glass.
"Jack..." Shufti sighs wearily, taking her toddler's hand and sitting him down for the fourteenth time. "You are not going downstairs for dinner without shoes on. We can do this all night but you're going to get very hungry."
Jack gives her a look that seems to enquire 'Is that a challenge?'. But Shufti knows better than to give in at this point, or she'll never succeed again.
"Jack go dinner." he announces, getting up again. Shufti catches him, and he decides to wriggle as she picks him up. He stops wriggling when mummy gives a loud squeal of pain and drops him about a foot.
"You drop me!" he says, glowering at mummy who's clutching her back and making a weird face.
Shufti grimaces, feeling the sharp pain that comes with not lifting things properly whilst pregnant. She tries to stand, but that makes it a hell of a lot worse.
"What do you think we're going to do now Jack?" she asks, with her 'Mummy's not very pleased' face.
"I think... no shoes!" Jack beams and bounces towards the door. "Jack go dinner now, bye bye."
"Jack!" Shufti stares after him, tries to follow, and can't.
"At least send your daddy up, please?" she calls after him, picking up his shoes and slowly attempting to follow.