It is 7.45 am and there is screaming from the hallway, the eldest one is distraught. I race over and demand an explanation (calmly and not shouty because I’ve stopped being shouty mum remember).
The response to my question of ‘what’s going on?’ was not what I was expecting: ‘she’s got a weapon and she going to use it against me. Or it could be a sword….I think it’s a sword mummy.’
Ok – so once I’d finished guffawing – ‘weapon?’ I mean seriously, how on earth does ‘weapon’ ease its way into a four year old’s vocabulary? Anyway, back to this weapon, I’m thinking I’ve been careless. Maybe our youngest has been brandishing the metal skewer I use to poke vegetables to check they are cooked, or maybe she’s found a screwdriver in daddy’s box of random, miscellaneous things, or some scissors, perhaps a knife?
No. I turn around and the weapon of much distress is a hollowed out pawn from a Ludo set that she has stuck her index finger in. Clearly this now pointy, blue tipped finger is a real threat so early in the day. All I can think of is how this Ludo set has become a perennial pain. It came with a set of indecipherable instructions and as such I refuse to play it.
The only person who does know how to play it, is Grandma. But because only Grandma knows how to play, it’s played by ‘Grandma’s rules’ which involves a bizarre ritual of aimlessly moving the pawns around the board until you decide to house them wherever you like. It makes no sense. It makes even less sense when your four year old tries to explain it.
And so I tell the youngest whilst restraining my irritation at this ridiculous board game to put away her 1 inch plastic weapon. The boxed pawns and board are now sitting on a shelf…waiting…until I decide on my own weapon for its annihilation.