But mum that’s my favourite and the attack of the shark.

Our house is covered in toys, we have a toy box in the front room, a toy chest in the girls bedrooms and a bath toy box but yet somehow every surface and floor ends up covered in ‘favourite’ toys; I even have a tiny toy box in my bedroom for the unexpected 6am wakeup calls. Favourite toys come and go and I try to rotate the toys upstairs with the ones downstairs so that everything gets played with but some toys are never chosen so in my mind they are no longer needed. My two eldest children both have birthdays in the same week and with Christmas around ten weeks after their birthdays I like to have a clearout; mainly to make space for the new toys that will no doubt be arriving with the birthday fairies and Father Christmas.

When the weekend came around I suggested that the hubby take the girls to see his parents to give me time to sort through everything; he is as bad as they are, I have a loft full of items that we will ‘need’ one day. With the house empty I began the dreaded task; dreaded because nothing ever turns out to be where I think it is. The main toy will probably be in one room and the accessories in another. I had three piles, one to donate to the charity shops/hospital, one to bin and one to keep. Half an hour in and it looked like a nuclear bomb had gone off in the living room, I was hot and bothered and wondering why I had ever started. I had sat on countless parts and pieces and the accessories that I knew I had put at reach had gone; or rather I hadn’t put them where I thought I had. The girls were back, nanny and granddad had to go out; lack of planning turned out to be my downfall.

In for a penny in for a pound as the saying goes, I will continue I kept chanting in my head.

“mum that’s my favourite toy what are you doing with it” I explained about the poorly children needing toys only to be met with “but what if we get poorly we might need it” I was loosing the battle and it had only just began, I could feel my partners eyes burning into the back of my head; the fact that the toy in question hadn’t been played with probably since new year didn’t seem to come into the bad mummy moment I was apparently having.  “oh look, mum you found my racing car, I’ve been looking for that for ages I love this toy” it was news to me, I didn’t think it was lost; how could I not know it had been lost all the time it had been sitting in the toy box missing a wheel? I tried to explain it was broken and couldn’t be played with anymore but “daddy will fix it.”

 I thought I had finished in the living room so with a smile on my face I went off to the kitchen to get the bags and heard an almighty crash shortly followed by... “gggrrrrrrhhhhhhhhhh I’m a shark”

 I was standing in the door holding my bags just looking at the shark that had conveniently found itself thrashing around in the middle of my lovely neat piles of toys. I had just spent hours sorting through the toys and everyone around me was laughing and I just stood there with my mouth wide open debating an emotional breakdown.

I quit and I admit my failure with a smile on my face, my two year old daughter, sorry shark had beat me, the  next time I attempt the living room toys I will pre arrange a visit when nanny and granddad have no plans. I’m also sure my partner winked at our little shark after the crash; better luck next time mummy.

I escaped the bomb site and headed upstairs closing the stair gates behind me. The toys upstairs were a doddle in comparison but I think that had more to do with the fact I had no interruptions, Countless jigsaws with missing pieces, train tracks with missing tracks and a Barbie who was somehow missing her arm were just a few of my finds.  When I thought nothing could surprise me anymore I asked my daughter if she knew where barbie's arm was and I was informed that Barbie had wanted to be like the women on CBebbies with one arm because the lady off the telly wanted someone else to be like her. I normally would have told her off for deliberately breaking a toy but her heart was in the right place, well sort of. I did explain that she shouldn’t have just ripped Barbie’s arm off and how lucky she is to have so many toys but I’m not sure I made my point very clearly, maybe it was the suprise of her answer.

 I bagged the toys up and hid them in the spare room, I wasn’t going to risk taking them downstairs when the girls were awake just in case of another unexpected shark attack or another ‘my favourite toy’ moment.

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