The Youngest Pessimist ever?

Today has been rather a long day to end what has been an exceptionally long week....darn Powys Education Authority for allowing a 9th January 2012 start to term.

Following a trip to Crickhowell Library to register and take some books home (great range and good quality, i.e not too many with teeth marks and pull out flaps long gone to paper heaven), we proceeded to the local optician to both register and arrange an optician appointment for myself.  I noticed that the two eldest were suspiciously quiet whilst I was doing this and on the way home, #2 announced , "I want the Star Wars glasses Mummy."  I explained that wearing glasses on a permanent basis is not all its "cracked" up to be and that its much better if she ends up having eyes like Daddy, who is still blessed with 20/20.  God knows some of  our children deserve to be blessed with his "good eye gene" given the irritation of his hereditary "asthma and eczema" gene.

So, back at home and #1 has now decided that he wants "good eyes" because all his friends who wear glasses always have to keep mending them because they break at school.

We had already arranged for cousins to come for lunch and play and when my brother dropped them off, I also ended up with an extra, which was no problem as 5 out of the 6 I was now responsible for, are toilet trained and can say what they need......and 4-6yr olds can say a lot.

The lunchtime hell was punctuated with  permanent references to POO, WEE, WILLYS, POO, BOOBIES, SICK, FARTS, POO, DEATH, SMELLY BUMS, POO and even my last post reference - FOOFS!
I gave up trying to point out that we could talk about something else like, flowers, football, and even what Father Christmas brought them for Christmas, but I was totally outnumbered and giggled over.
Even #3 was adding to the mayhem with screeches of delight and was herself a source of great amusement as #2 managed to balance carrot sticks on top of her head. (Thankfully she had the courtesy to lick the houmous off first).

I  had to GET THEM OUT OF THE HOUSE and after quickly showing them the contents of grandad's wormery, which resulted in initial silence and then what felt a bit like fear (I was a bit naughty and said that if you fell into it, the worms could probably eat you up in about 10 seconds), we headed off to the park.

You are probably wondering when I am going to get to the point regarding the post title and here goes.

A final flurry of football resulted in the boys displaying some excellent professional fouling potential and #2 running away to sulk on the swings because she could not kick the boys (their legs or the ball). When walking home, she initially trailed behind and then decided to run up to my nephew and his friend to berate them about not letting her have the ball.  She uttered the immortal phrase "ITS NOT FAIR" and before I could even open my mouth to reply, my nephew, with a practised weary sigh, looked at her, shrugged his 6 year old shoulders and said quite simply....."LIFE IS NOT FAIR".