Yesterday I walked to school with the kids and Scarlett found a robin's egg on the pavement and was very excited about it. She asked me to take it home and hatch it.
Me "You are joking?" Scarlett "It would be the easiest thing in the world. You'd just keep it warm." "How?" "Under some blankets." "It would suffocate." "Then sit on it like a bird." "Yes good idea. I could build a nest in the front room and sit on it for a week wearing a Tweety Bird costume. Then when it is born I could chew worms and feed them to the tiny hatchling with tweezers. Er, no. Why don't you just take it and show it to your science teacher?" "Oh mum, you are so mean."
Emma getting ready to sit on the nest and hatch the robin's egg
Then Scarlett came home from school screaming saying on the way home the egg had got crushed in her hands and yolk had come out. She screamed that I had killed the bird. Well I just ignored her and later while Scarlett was out with her dad I found the little one aka Sausage - who can pick ANY lock or get into any password protected computer file yet can barely read and would have been a shoe in for one of those child pick pockets in Fagin's Gang (Oliver Twist) - poking a little key that Scarlett had hidden God knows where into her sister's locked diary. I said, "Why are you doing that? You can't even read, let alone the fact that your sister would not want you to read it." She says, "Oh I'm just going to look at the pictures." After a while she says in a sweet little voice, "Can you read it to me? I want to learn to read." She is an MLB (Manipulative Little Bitch) so before I know it I am reading aloud from Scarlett's Diary. I was amazed at her poetic licence. There were two recent incidents of torture, one human, one animal:
"1. Daddy pulled out six splinters from my feet today but made it hurt a lot more than it should of. He was trying to kill me I think.
2. I found a robin's egg on the way to school. I wanted to give it to mum to take home but she hates animals and said she would not raise it. By the evening the egg had smashed. Mum is the one who killed that robin before it was born."
Let's hope the contents of that diary never get out. Sitting here waiting for Social Services to phone up looking for a Child Torturer and Animal Murderer.
So what do you reckon - am I a bad mummy and should I be punished?
Who am I? Displaced Londoner now living in the States with my two little girlies and long suffering husband. Co-author of hilarious parenting book Cocktails at Naptime www.cocktailsatnaptime.com
My mom's an Austrian, my dad's a Brit, which makes me a Britaustrian, or possibly an Austrish?