Drip, Drip, Drip

My entry that was written for yesterday’s goings on was interrupted with Caleb falling from Tara’s bed whilst his arm was between the slats at the side. I will rewrite some of what I was going to say. Well, what can I say! The little ones were having their afternoon nap, though I could still hear their shouting and running around, (laughing) on the wooden floors at the top of the house. Long gone are those magical moments of story time before sleepy bye byes etc. Their characters now so concrete, personalities apparent.

Writing this last night, I was again interrupted. Caleb had his moment, please note my earlier entry. I am now going to return to the original story: There was a good 30 minutes of commotion after lunchtime yesterday. I gave the three little ones the benefit of doubt. This I later learnt was at my peril. Tara went upstairs and came back down saying ‘Dadda, they have been very naughty – they have made a mess’. This they have done several times in the past, so I imagined that I would just venture up to the top floor and pickup all of the toys and clothing that would have been lying around. I waited for a few minutes to react. Suddenly I heard a cascade of water coming from John and my bedroom. I immediately jumped to attention and bolted up the stairs.

There certainly was a steady flow of water coming through the light fixture. I bolted up the second flight of stairs. Aaliyah heard me and made her retreat to her bed, leaving the boys, a sink, a running tap, several sopping wet towels and wet clothing scattered to the four corners of their shower room and surround area.

They were naked and running amuck without a care. I shouted lots, so much in fact my throat was later rather sore. All I could do was remove the soaking wet items and mop up the pool besides my bed on the floor below. As I sit in the living room, now the next day, water is still dripping onto the living room floor. I will show you below.

Not the best of days. But thankfully Caleb is well (arm in plaster cast), though my threat of no Chocolate Egg for the little ones today still stands. Amritsar and Tara are gloating.

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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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