Not Quite Supermom

Thursday, 15 January 2009

Don't talk to me about Winnie The Pooh

I am taking great comfort in the fact that it isn't just me in this parenting partnership who is falling slightly short of expectations. As a New Years resolution BOTH Mr G and myself have decreed that we will take our children swimming EVERY Sunday to spend some quality time with the little ones. On our first ever "family swim" venture (normally its just me) Mr G declared (rather confidently I thought) that he would take our two boys and get them changed, leaving me with just the baby and the hope of a hairwash afterwards.

As he started opening the door to the changing room, I started issuing instructions: "Ryan needs his goggles in his swim bag and he likes to take his towel with him to the pool.. and Alfie's winnie the pooh swim nappy is in his swim bag."

Mr G gave me a look that was MEANT to tell me he was in full control. I wasn't so confident but I gave him the benefit of the doubt...

Nearly 35 minutes later Mr G and the boys joined me and Gracie in the pool. No really was this long. Personally I was all for getting out the pool and having that hairwash I've been dreaming about. But seeing as this was a "family venture" Gracie and I stayed in to play in the water.

It was an amazing success! The boys were having a fantastic time showing Daddy how well they could swim and having rides on his back through the pool. Gracie was trying to drink the water and then getting suprised when it made her cough. Mr G and I even took turns to go in the hot-tub. It was actually going rather well!

Until Alfie got out the pool to jump in.

It was then that I noticed the horrendous error made by Mr G.

Alfie appeared to be struggling somewhat to walk along the side of the pool. Which was not suprising really...seeing as his nappy appeared to have soaked up about half of the pool water and the bottom part seemed to be languishing way beyond his knees and nearly way beyond the bounds of decency for a public pool. The nappy also had a picture of Lightening McQueen from the Disneys Cars film, although he was looking less sporty race car..more stretched limo.

It became painfully obvious that Mr G had got his Disney characters terribly confused.

On a day to day basis Alfie wears pullups featuring the Disney Cars characters.

The swim nappies had Winnie the Pooh on them.

Mr G stated in his defense that he thought I was so well organised (..does the man even know me at all??) that I had ALREADY put Alfies swim nappy on before we left the house. I countered with the fact that due to our recent trip to Disney he should therefore be far more up on his Disney knowledge than the average Joe...and why on earth did he think I mentioned winnie the pooh? Did he think I just go around mentioning winnie the pooh for no apparent reason?

At this point Alfies nappy fell off..with a rather large "pop" and burst a million little bits of sodden crystals (what is that stuff?) all across the poolside.

The moral of the tale?

Ensure that your husband takes regular quizzes on identifying the Disney characters.

Take great lengths to ensure he has no inflated opinion of your organisational powers.

Endeavour to make him think that you aren't such a "mummy" that you drop Winnie the Poohs name into every sentence (ie..."Gracie just loves Winnie the Pooh," or "I saw this really cute Winnie the Pooh toy today," or "the kids watched another episode of Winnie the Pooh this afternoon," or "tonight I read the kids a Winnie the Pooh story.") Otherwise I'm pretty sure he won't be listening when it matters.

Failing that..get the kids ready yourself and wash your hair when you get home.

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