I had thought it was the only time in my life that I would be mistaken for council furnishing but it appears I was incorrect.
One of the small offspring has been unsettled for a period. Irregular night terrors, regular night time wanderings that invariably end in my bed, overly vocal in declaring undying love and a propensity to declare adoration at the drop of a hat. There are conversations that have been had, tucked up in bed with a stuffed kangaroo that have made the reasons understandable, but none I thought that would lead to a second incantation as a lamp post.
I was asked recently if people get married after they are divorced. Having assured him that I was in no rush to consider such venture, small child had proceeded to state that when Daddy gets better, perhaps we may remarry. Somewhat confused at the better part of the statement, it became clear when he stated that Daddy may get 'Better at being nice to you'
And therein lies one of the route causes. Children are not stupid, the observe and then they come up with their own conclusion. Months of watching Daddy not be able to be civil in response to any verbal contact, Daddy refusing all eye contact and Daddy walking behind Mummy without speaking on the few unfortunate occasions that we have shared tarmac. Since their friends have questioned the normality of the situation - you can magnify that thought process by about one thousand.
So the unsettled nights have been no surprise and the fact that they have continues even less surprising. Finding small distraught child crying on the top of the stairs 4 hours after he went to bed was not necessarily a surprise. What I didn't anticipate was the lamppost. As I walked up the stairs, I did take note of a strange sensation on my stomach, I noted it even more as it continued down my body. By the time we were at mid thigh level, I realised that I was in fact being urinated on.
Great. I am a lamppost.
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