We put the boys to bed on the other night and went downstairs to watch some TV. All was quiet and we were enjoying a glass of wine until we heard Fat Chops call his brother over the monitor. His calls got progressively louder and more irritated until I ran upstairs to see what the problem was. Fat Chops was not content with just telling me what was wrong, he provided a full re-enactment. Monkey Boy was breathing heavily [he was nursing a slight cold] but to his brothers mind, he was snoring like a train. “He snoring Daddy, he going…”
I got stuck here when I was writing this. Fat Chops was making a theatrical and comically loud snoring noise. I spent a lot of time trying to figure out how to write that down. I’m sure you know the noise but do you know how to spell it? Answers in the comments section below!
The following night there was another call through the monitor. For reasons known only to himself, Fat Chops had arranged one blanket on each side of his bed and a third on the end. It must have been part of a game because on the other side Monkey Boy had two blankets on one side and the third on the end because his cot is beside the wall. This greatly offended Fat Chops’ aesthetic sensibilities. He stood up in his cot demonstrating how he had blankets “here and here and here” meaning one blanket on each side and one at the end. He then pointed over to his brother who only had blankets “here and here” meaning two on one side and one at the end. To me that made perfect sense because while FC’s cot was closer the door and only the head was against the wall, MB’s was in the corner and it was difficult to hang a blanket over that side. Fat Chops was really aggravated that his brother didn’t share his sense for symmetry. I tried to explain that Monkey Boy liked it that way so it was ok and that Fat Chops could arrange his blankets any way that he wanted. I was told in no uncertain terms that “IT’S NOT RIGHT!!” I tried to explain the practical limitations because of where his cot was but that wasn’t good enough. It soon became clear that any opinion that differed even slightly for Fat Chops’ was not only wrong but completely idiotic. Fat Chops was enraged that I didn’t move the blankets to the correct formation and I got several repetitions of “IT’S NOT RIGHT!!” until I was not ony afraid that he would wake the kids next door but every sleeping child for a half mile radius. I’m not an expert but I’m confident in saying that my son is showing signs of OCD at this point.
Only a couple of nights after these two incidents we had another variation of the “I’m not ready to sleep yet” game. It was just after New Years eve so we put the boys up early in anticipation of them struggling to get back into the routine after letting bed time slide over the Christmas season. They had little or no interest in sleeping again and appealed for a little drink, a toy to play with, more light and when none of that worked Fat Chops decided that he needed a poo. I was sceptical but not prepared to call his bluff. After much grunting and straining he eventually squeezed a small one out. I brought him back into the room and asked Monkey Boy if he needed to go. Initially he said no and then changed his mind. I decided to play along but had a stern talk to him in the bathroom saying that if he didn’t need a poo I would be very angry but if he told me now that he was joking I would still be happy. [Long may it last that they care whether we are happy with them or not!]. He looked me in the eye and said he needed a poo. If I wasn’t sceptical before, the theatrical grunting made sure that I definitely was by now. I was practising my rant in my head when my reverie was disturbed by a splashing sound. Monkey Boy looked up from his throne and asked “Is Daddy happy?” with a look on his face that was somewhere between “didn’t know I had it in me” and “I told you so!”. Daddy was so happy that he couldn’t stop laughing!
