Some days I feel like praying …..

Georgia:  “What happened to my beautiful brush?’

Me: “What is it, Georgia?”

Georgia – being a tad over dramatic – clearly those drama classes are really giving us our money’s worth: “My beautiful brush, its broken (pronounced bwo-ken)”

Me: “It’s fine …..”

I mean it is an old brush and she barely liked it any way!

Georgia: “Its her, it is her ….”  sort of gesturing wildly towards her sister.

Me: “Its her what…..” getting slightly irritated now.

Who am I kidding I was irritated when I walked in!!

<However my irritation was fueled when it took me 8 minutes to figure out that Georgia was talking about a pillow (small pillow with a pocket that you put your tooth in for the tooth fairy)  I had told her about last weekend, when I was trying to ask her if a dress fitted her. 

So I stood trying to understand and decipher what the hell she was on about in response to a dress – but she had changed the subject and not told me.  It sort of left me going: what, what are you saying …. for far too long, and I eventually got so chipped off and threw a wobbly.>

Anyway back to the brush …. so Georgia is looking at it and lamenting the fact that it is broken.  Suddenly it is her best item in the universe and it is all her sister’s fault.

I am preparing to explain that it was me, it was I, who actually broke the brush and just left it in her room, in the hope that the nanny would find it tomorrow and fix it.

Let me explain, it really is not difficult to fix, I just feel so lazy right now I barely have the strength to cut myself a piece of cake to eat with the glass of wine I plan to pour in about three minutes.

So I knew it was me, not her sister, and really it is not a big deal … or so I thought.

Georgia: “That girl, that girls got the duiwel in her!”

Me: “What…?”  in a slightly elevated tone!

Georgia – like she is talking to the mentally feeble: “That girl Isabelle has the duiwel in her heart!”  (duiwel = devil)

Me: ‘……………….”

I really think there are signs that Georgia is going to be “that child” – the one who we get called into the principals office to discuss …. often.

The girls playing in my cupboard, they totally destroyed it, and my shoes were strewn out all over the bedroom ……

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