Flabbergasted: Political Poo….

Its looking like Twin Boys best career option is to go into politics.  Not my first choice for him but apparently it can be lucrative so I should be able to look forward to a decent level of sheltered housing when my mummy madness progresses into senility.

At age five he already has incredible negotiation and work avoidance skills coupled with a rather scary ability to bend the truth and get away with it.  That and he is often caught wandering around with his pants round his ankles like many good politicians before him

Today I saw a glimpse of his political aspirations when he asked if  I would turn the sprinkler on and let him and twin girl cavort on the lawn playing in the droplets.  Seeing the weather was overcast and also having a reluctance to set up the hose I said no and suggested a much more exciting activity in the form of a jigsaw.

I was a little surprised when he turned down the opportunity to bond together cut out bits of cardboard to make into a picture which was already fully formed on the front of the box it came in but then I was flabbergasted by his campaign skills to make me change my mind.

First he begged, I was ready for this.  With each cry of “please mummy please” I stood resolute and repeated my earlier decline whilst  showcasing a range of delightful broken up jigsaws from Ben 10 to Barbie and Ken.

Then he moaned, again I was ready, which each declaration of how mean I was I listed a fun occasion we had recently enjoyed; including a visit to Legoland and a gruesome bug hunt round the backyard.

Then suddenly he changed tack…

“Mummy if you please put the sprinkler on I promise to do my next poo in the toilet.  If you don’t it may somehow end up in my pants…”

What the….

I was stupefied; if I said no it could be poogate all over again?  If I gave in I would have taught him that his new-found skill is a bloody good one.

I swear whilst I was mulling it over his face started to turn red from the pressure of trying to summon some movement from the depths of his bowels.

Five minutes later my twin boy proudly accepted his new title as Lord Mayor Sprinkler and his whoops of joy as he splashed naked on the lawn could be heard for miles around.

I know I am weak but seriously I really I have enough sh*t to deal with.

Peering out of the window at her smarty pants  brother, twin girl crept over to me and lay her head in my arms.

Looking up into my weary eyes she muttered;

“Mummy, what are we going to do about Owen?”

If only I knew……

**By the way my little blog has been shortlisted in the MAD blog Awards; I am really flattered, if you want to help me win please click on this voting link and enter your name and email and my blog has been shortlisted in Best Mad Blog about Family life (the first one); just click ‘northern mum’   – Thanks from me, twin boy, twin girl, BB, and he who helped create them x x x