They Sense Weakness

Looking after small, ridiculously energetic children who are still on a post-festive season sugar high when you are poorly is a special kind of torture.

I had so many good intentions of utilising productive ways to spend the first few days of the shiny new (and hopefully slightly less crap) year, but all were thwarted when I became a shivering, phlegm-ridden mess shortly before the new year started and l have subsequently spent every day of 2017 so far battling a nasty chest infection whilst being treated as a handy, portable trampoline by two small ninjas who can sense weakness and exploit it at 100 paces.

A favoured item in their arsenal of terrifying tools of torture is Monopoly Junior.

At first Monopoly Junior seemed like a nice, wholesome family game to enjoy together as you try to make each other thoroughly destitute and depressed at the thought of landing on bloody Mayfair again when my oldest daughter owns the sodding Park Lane-Mayfair-double-that’s-another-10-you-owe-me-Mummy-combo, but after approximately 7,485,402 games (since Christmas Day) it has descended into my eldest daughter becoming a full-on evilly cackling capitalist and my youngest daughter wanting to join in with the game (by which I mean she runs away with the dice, throws all the money in the air then dances on the crumpled remains and hides the playing ‘characters’ in random hidey-holes around the house while the game is still being played).

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Plotting maximum destruction.

I clutch the 2 Monopoly pounds I have remaining and cough out my lungs while chaos erupts around me and calculate how many minutes are left until bedtime.

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Trampling on the concept of capitalism.

By bath time I had lost all energy and will to deny any more daft requests from them and, when faced with the usual unusual bathwater-enhancement demands (tonight it was “Make the water yellow, Mummy!”), I just sighed a resigned sigh and dropped a Disney branded fizzy bath colouring tablet into the water (probably a Christmas stocking gift from last year which has languished in the bathroom cupboard since 2015) and watched them frolic in what closely resembled urine (well one or possibly both of them had probably peed in there anyway).

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Frolicking in their Disney-branded urine bath
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