The bottom of the log basket

Well, the pumpkin pie went down a treat. That is, with everyone except Aaliyah. Dinner was my take on a bacon and egg McMuffin. The children had a Lancashire muffin. It is basically a soft bap, bread roll, with bacon and a fried egg cooked in a metal mold to make a perfect circle. Everyone ate with haste, that is everyone bar Aaliyah. Kicking up such a stink, several threats of eating up or the ‘Thinking Chair’, she chose instead to scream and scream and scream. She really has been so good of late – the very naughty girl she was just A few months ago, seemed to be a thing of the past. But tonight the ‘Old Aaliyah’ raised her rather belligerent head. She was partially marched, then taken under arm up the stairs to their bedroom. The ultimate in punishment is to be sent to bed and usually, at this point they will willingly walk themselves up the stairs. But tonight it was a lift and a walk for me with her held firmly but gently up the two flights of stairs and directly to her bed – the screams and screams continued. ‘I hate you Dadda,, I hate you’. I know she doesn’t, but it saddens me to hear such an angry little lady filled with such scorn. Thor remarked, once I returned to the kitchen ‘Aaliyah can be so naughty Dadda’, ‘yes she can’ I replied. ‘Pumpkin pie anyone’? Everyone (bar Aaliyah) enjoyed. The little ones and the girls are all asleep now. No dramas, probably due to the fact that they are all trying to be the best behaved that they can be, given Aaliyah’s behaviour. The living room is cold, we have just lit the fire. The log basket has been emptied and Aaliyah’s favourite PJ masks character has been found at the bottom of it. No doubt Caleb had hidden her there. John has taken the basket to the bottom of the garden to fill with chopped logs. Owlette the cartoon character has been placed in Aaliyah’s place at the kitchen table. I’m hoping it will raise a smile in the morning and we will once again friends… the ups and the downs of family life. Another day await us in the morning. Nite nite all.

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A Gay Dad reflecting on life in the Shires of England with my not so famous five and two rapscallion Dalmatian hounds

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