Family Snippets - 2. A Special Day

I have just completed one of the most arduous, torturous, frustrating and challenging tasks known to man:

Mother’s Day with a four- and six-year-old.

The challenge started on the day before. With my usual flair for planning things well in advance, I waited until the Saturday morning to have a discussion with Andrew. Colin had already bought a Mother’s Day present at school, as well as making something in his class. Andrew, naturally enough, didn’t have anything to give his mum.

So, while Janine was out doing the weekly shopping, I sat down with Andrew and informed him we had to get Mum something for Mother’s Day.

“I want to get her a train engine,” he announced.

Now, because of a previous discussion with my youngest son, I knew exactly what he meant. The conversation in question had been during the phase when we were trying to toilet train him. After numerous attempts and various methods, we were at the “bribe” stage.

“If you go to the toilet properly for a whole week, we’ll get you a new train engine for your train track,” I told him.

Showing the skills that would make a top-class union negotiator proud, he immediately fired back a counter-proposal:

“Daddy, how about you go the toilet properly for a week, then you get the train and you share it with me?”

While I didn’t doubt that I’d be able to complete the suggested task successfully, it really didn’t meet the over-all objective of getting Andrew toilet trained. I did, however, fire an email off to the Federal Trade Minister in Canberra and offered my son’s services in trade negotiations, but so far I’ve had no response. I’m sure the Free Trade Agreement with the USA would have turned out more to Australia’s advantage if they’d taken up my offer.

So, when Andrew suggested getting Janine a train engine for Mother’s Day, I suspected he really just wanted another one for himself. I decided to test this theory:

“I don’t think Mummy would like a train engine. How about we get her some chocolates, instead?”

“But I don’t like chocolate!” he whined.

Now this was a complete lie but, relative to a new train engine, I could accept it as being the truth. Rather than discussing it at that time, I elected to wait until we were actually at the shops before trying to him to choose a suitable present.

Now Saturday mornings is when the boys have their swimming lessons. The only chance we’d have to do any shopping would be if we left early, and bought any present before swimming. This was the first of my challenges for the day. Andrew, for reasons known only to himself, likes to get up soon after 7am. Colin, who I believe is in training to be a teenager or university student, likes to sleep in for as long as possible.

We managed to get both of them up, feed them breakfast – a task that often needed more effort from the parents than would normally be required – and out the door in time to do some shopping before the swimming lesson.

Now, while all of this was going on, I struggled to think of what to get Janine. After all, when you have someone who already owns a pair of Venus Flytraps, what more do they really need? Okay, technically one of those plants belongs to Colin, but as Janine is the one who swats the flies and feeds them to the plants, she has some stake in being able to say they are hers.

My plan was that we’d park at the swimming centre, wander over the road to the shops, leave Janine at the coffee shop, while I took the two boys and bought a present.

Problem number one: the coffee shop was closed.

Why? I had no idea. The notice on the front door said that it was supposed to have opened thirty minutes before we arrive, but the door was firmly shut.

Not wanting to be fall at the first hurdle, I quickly came up with another plan. Sending Janine off with Andrew to the toilet, I took Colin to the newsagent and got him to pick a Mother’s Day card. This was deceptively easy. In hindsight, it was just a way of lulling me into a false sense of security.

When Andrew came back, running ahead of Janine, I grabbed the opportunity to show him a card and ask him if he’d like to give this one to his mum. He just nodded – he’d seen the toy collection and had more important things to think about.

So far, so good.

After purchasing the cards, and hiding them away so Janine didn’t see them, I left Colin to entertain my wife, and took Andrew into the supermarket with me.

“Come on,” I told my four-year-old son. “We’ll have to get Mummy some chocolates.”

I had decided that chocolates were a simple, though not particularly imaginative, present. With less than twenty-four hours until Mother’s Day, coming up with a better idea was beyond me.

Scanning the store signs, I found the aisle with the chocolates. It was also the aisle with the breakfast foods.

“Daddy,” Andrew said excitedly, “I’ve found a box of chocolates!”

I looked at what he was pointing to.

“Andrew, while I’m sure Mummy would love that, I think we can find something better for her than a box of chocolate-flavoured breakfast cereal.”

“Okay, Daddy,” he shrugged. “You tell me when to stop.”

With that we headed down the aisle until we came to the boxes of chocolates.

“Time to stop,” I told him.

“Look, cars!” he said, looking on the opposite side to where the target presents were located.

“No, Andrew, we are not getting you any more cars,” I said patiently. “We’re supposed to be getting something for Mummy, remember?”

“An ambulance, a bus, a fire engine, and... what’s that, Daddy?” he asked, ignoring what I’d just said.

“It’s a police car,” I replied, as I gently turned him around and pointed him towards the boxes of chocolates. “Would you like to pick one of these for Mummy?”

I was ready to pick one myself – Janine would never know who really selected it – but Andrew came through with flying colours: he picked the nearest box.

Before he could be distracted by any other offerings being presented, I whisked him off to the checkout area. There was a tense moment while Andrew was eyeing off a six-pack of cinnamon donuts, but I managed to ease him past them without a request to purchase anything.

Safely out of the supermarket, I collected Janine and Colin and we headed off to complete our normal Saturday morning schedule.

Despite the momentary feelings of angst when Andrew didn’t seem to be treating the present buying seriously, I felt I’d overcome all obstacles and was ready to enjoy the rest of my day.

Sadly, I was to learn otherwise.

Colin proceeded to pester me all afternoon about going to “The Concrete” so he could ride his bike. Eventually, with much hesitation as I knew he’d be asking me to ride with him, we headed off. By that stage, it was late afternoon, so we kept it short. I didn’t mind riding too much that day, though my bum was still sore from the week before. Janine had had the bike serviced during the week and I could feel the difference.

After about forty minutes of riding, I pulled up next to the car and quietly agreed with Janine that we’d finish in ten minutes. Just then, Colin and Andrew rode up.

“Okay, guys. Ten more minutes,” Janine announced.

“How about twelve?” countered our experienced four-year-old negotiator.

I smiled. He didn’t know how long ten minutes were, let alone twelve. He just knew which was the bigger number.

“Okay, twelve minutes,” I agreed.

“How about a thousand?” Andrew continued, clearly on the basis that if I’d agreed to twelve minutes so quickly I might be squeezed for some more.

He lost on that one. Which just proves that even experienced wheelers-and-dealers can’t always win.

We went home soon afterwards, and I started to get dinner ready. As it was just a case of reheating the leftovers from the night before, plus some chips and fish-fingers for the boys, this wasn’t an arduous task.

It was at the end of dinner that I learnt that my job was not over.

“Colin, stay at the table until everyone has finished eating,” Janine said when Colin tried to leave.

“But I have to go! I need to wrap the presents for tomorrow!” he replied, starting to get distressed.

I had completely forgotten about the gifts he’d brought home from school. Somehow, I’d assumed that they would already be wrapped.

The next thirty minutes was an exercise in parental torture. That’s the kids torturing a parent, not the other way round.

Colin had written on his card for his mum earlier in the day, so while I started wrapping presents, I gave Andrew his card and suggested he draw on it. Retrieving the box of pencils, crayons and textas, he happily sat down to start on his masterpiece.

Meanwhile, I started the present wrapping saga. I knew from earlier conversations that Colin had three presents – one for his mum, and one for each of his grandmothers.

“Now, who is this one for?” I asked him.

“Nanny,” he replied confidently.

I gave him a card. “Here, why don’t you write on the card while I wrap the present?” I suggested, reasonably in my opinion. I should’ve known better.

Just as I was finishing wrapping the first present, I got hit from both sides.

“Daddy! This one isn’t working!” Andrew said, shoving a texta in my face.

“Try another one, then, Andrew,” I replied, trying to keep my frustration from my voice.

“Daddy, what goes next?” Colin asked me, showing me a lovely “m” he’d written on the card.

“I thought this card was for Nanny,” I said. “Nanny starts with a ‘N’.”

“Oh, no! What are we going to do?” Colin asked, starting to panic. “It’s all ruined!” he continued with a creative mixture of despair, frustration and anger. Even if he didn’t do it, you always heard the stamping of the foot that should accompany that phrase.

There is nothing more traumatic in life that finding out that you’ve written the wrong thing on a Mother’s Day card. Colin taught me that lesson.

“Calm down, Colin,” I said soothingly. “Here, write ‘Nanny’ on the other side of the card, and I’ll work out what to do.”

After writing “Nanny” on a scrap of paper for him to copy, Colin cheerfully started transcribing the word. In the meantime, I was panicking. What could I get him to write that would use that letter “m”? I thought about suggesting he just colour over it, but I knew I’d just get a disgusted look in return, with some sort of statement saying that it’ll still be ruined.

“Daddy! This one is broken,” Andrew stated, shoving a pencil between me and the present I was still trying to finish wrapping.

“The pencil sharpener is in the box,” I pointed out. “Why don’t you sharpen it?”

“Thanks, Daddy!”

This continued for longer than humanly possible. I saved the situation with the first card when I came up with the phrase, “Mummy’s Mum,” and I explained to Colin that’s who Nanny was. When he asked me to write that down, I decided to leave out the apostrophe – he was having enough trouble with writing the letters; punctuation wasn’t really that important.

Throughout all of this, Janine had been taking a bath. She told me afterwards that each time she heard the frustration in my voice, she just ducked her head under the water so she wouldn’t have to listen. I just replied, “I love you, too,” and kissed her lightly. Her turn will come: my birthday wasn’t that far away....

Later that evening, I found Colin and Janine in the lounge room.

“Daddy, can we give Mummy breakfast in bed for Mother’s Day?” Colin asked me.

I looked at Janine, who returned my gaze serenely. It didn’t take me too much time to work out who’d put that thought into Colin’s head. That had to be the most disgustingly selfish thing I’d ever witnessed. Now I wasn’t going to get the credit for suggesting it. My one chance to pretend that I knew what I was doing: ruined!

By the time the boys had had book reading and were off to bed, I was exhausted. This was only the day before Mother’s Day. I still had to co-ordinate two willing, but completely unskilled, helpers, and make my wife breakfast. I had already decided that I wouldn’t let the boys carry the cup of coffee – that was just asking for trouble.

The next morning, I got up early. After starting the coffee brewing, I went looking for the tray that Colin would use to take breakfast in to Janine. After searching for several minutes, I humbly returned to the bedroom.

“Do you know where the tray is?” I asked meekly.

“Try the lounge room,” came the sleepy reply.

With that subtle hint, I managed to get everything organised. Now all I had to do was wait for the boys to wake up.

Colin was up first. Given how excited he’d been the day before, that was not surprising. Andrew, the perverse boy that he is, decided to sleep in.

Deciding that Andrew didn’t really understand what was going on, and so wouldn’t be upset for missing out on some of the activities, I started getting breakfast ready. The coffee was already made – all I had to do was to make some toast. I had been dreading a request for bacon and eggs, but Janine had taken pity on me and ordered a really simple meal.

Colin was extremely proud as he took the tray into his mum, while I carried the coffee. After giving Janine the tray, and getting a big hug in return, Colin rushed back to his room to where he’d hidden her presents.

Janine was genuinely pleased and impressed with the presents she got. Colin had bought a small pen and pad at the school’s Mother’s Day stall, and had made a cardboard box in his class. Inside the box was a huge multi-coloured flower, made from tissue. He carefully explained that they’d run out of green, which is why the leaves of the flower were orange.

At this point, Andrew woke up. I carried him to the bed, where he gave his mum a big hug. I then gave him the present he’d picked the day before, so he could give it to Janine.

“Here you are,” he said as he handed it over.

I whispered to him, “What do you say?”

“Thanks!” he said cheerfully. We’d always insisted that our boys say please and thank-you, and the phrase “What do you say” now seems to produce an automatic response of “Thanks,” which is not quite what we’d intended.

“Happy Mother’s Day,” I prompted quietly.

“Happy Mother’s Day!” he echoed happily to his mum, who was just taking a bite of toast.

When she didn’t respond immediately, he chided her: “Say, Thank you,” he ordered.

“Thank you,” Janine responded with a smile, as soon as she’d swallowed what was in her mouth.

“Can I have some toast, too?” Colin asked.

“I’d like some milk,” Andrew chirped up.

I stared for a moment, before spinning around and heading back to the kitchen. Given the potential range of disasters that could’ve fallen on me, making breakfast in bed for everyone else was a pretty minor one. I decided I wouldn’t argue, just in case it got worse.

When I came back, I stood in the doorway for a moment. My wife and the two boys were all in bed. Wrapping paper, envelopes and cards were scattered everywhere. The box of chocolates was already almost empty. Everyone was having fun.

I caught Janine’s eye.

“Happy?” I asked her.

She nodded with a smile.

Indicating the two boys, I asked her, “Would you like another one?”

Laughing, she shook her head. “No, thanks.”

I’m glad. I love Colin and Andrew deeply, but I didn’t think I’d survive another one. The night before had been stressful enough with two. Three would’ve driven me insane. Well, more insane than I already am, at least.