The secret diary of a 5 year old

IMG_20160101_152154788Saturday: Mummy and daddy have been waiting in all day for a new washing machine, apparently the man who came to fit it is something called “an arse” as the washing machine is actually broken.

Mummy is shouting at a lady on the phone whilst drinking wine and daddy appears to be making the washing machine worse (I don’t tell him, or mummy, this). My brother, who is naked at this point – obvs, has been jumping on and off a pink plastic step for 20 minutes and tells me he needs a wee. I find the potty for him, when I tell mummy “look where he has done his wee” she looks very cross and flies out of the kitchen (still shouting at the lady on the phone). When she sees us she bursts into tears and daddy gives us a cuddle, then she goes back to talking about the man called Arse. I tell my brother (who we sometimes call the frog) not to worry, we have to stick together, even if he does get on my nerves most of the time.

Sunday: I start my day in mummy and daddy’s bed with the frog, he’s demanding milk and hasn’t noticed that I have commandeered the iPad. Even when he does, he can watch Barbie – he pretty much does everything I say, even though mummy tells me not to boss him around. ¬†Sometimes I get cross with him as he never seems to get told off and because he’s always kissing and cuddling mummy she doesn’t notice when he empties a bottle of Calpol on the new carpet or draws on the wall behind the curtain (they haven’t discovered that yet). It does, however, mean that I can blame most things on him and no-one’s the wiser.

Monday: Mummy tells me it’s a school day and the frog is going to nursery. I always feel slightly smug watching him cry going into nursery as I go off to see my nice teacher and friends. Sometimes I ask mummy if we can swap him for my best friend’s sister, as I’m sure they really wouldn’t mind and they do seem to like him. Mummy looks sad when I say this, but I’m sure she would be ok as she likes my best friend’s sister too.

School was ok, except for when I had to eat roast dinner. When we get home we dress my brother as a princess which he loves, and mummy laughs a lot. It’s funny until he wants to wear my new Elsa dress.

Tuesday: After school we go to the park where a big boy pushes the frog off the slide which makes him cry. When no-one’s looking I pinch the big boy really hard and he cries. I’m pretty sure mummy saw me but it’s funny, cos she doesn’t tell me off but gives me a kiss. She normally gets really cross if I do that to the frog at home. Sometimes the frog isn’t very brave and doesn’t hit other kids, mummy says I am something called a “tough nut.”

Wednesday: It’s Wednesday and apparently I have school again. I feel a bit sad as I hear mummy telling the frog they are going to big Sainsbury’s and I wish I was going too. I hope they don’t have too much fun. If I tell mummy that I miss her she always cries. She’s always the one who is still at school looking through the window after we have all gone into class. Mummy tells me that when she was little some girls in her class were mean to her so gran used to hide behind trees by the playground at lunchtime to check she was ok, so I’m not really surprised she’s the way she is. Silly mummy and silly gran.

Thursday: Today after school we go and see the reindeer at the garden centre. There’s a Christmas princess there. I’m pretty sure she’s the same princess who came to my birthday party – but with different hair. Mummy tells me that she’s probably my princess’s sister and I pretend to believe her, but I know it’s the same lady as we once saw her in Tesco with no wig wearing a tracksuit. I’m also pretty sure she’s not really a princess either. I don’t tell mummy as I wouldn’t want to spoil it for her.

Friday: It’s almost the weekend mummy says, all I know is that Friday means a visit to the bakery after school. It’s handy because the new bakery is right on the way home, mummy always mutters things about this and something called ‘marketing’ and I know when she makes us cross the road to look at the decorations in the pretty shop it’s so we forget about the cakes in the window. Most of my class are in the bakery when we get there, along with their scooters and little brothers and sisters in buggies. All the grown-ups look a bit cross, including the ladies who work there as I don’t think they like it when we poke our fingers into the cakes. I don’t care because I’ve got myself a chocolate covered Christmas tree and am looking forward to eating it in front of an episode of Dora. I’ve had a hard week after all.




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