When Mummy Bloggers Go Bad.

Sometimes, the blogosphere is a lovely, warm community. Sharing our parenting experiences online, strangers slowly become friends, always there to support each other and give each other a boost just when we need it.

Other times, the blogosphere is evil. To be more specific, Mummy bloggers are evil.

Take Sandy at Baby Baby. Oh, I know what you’re thinking. “Sandy, she’s so lovely and friendly and such a great blogger."

Yeah, that’s just what she wants you to think. That’s how she sucks you in. With all that niceness and the sense of humour and the great writing and stuff. She is shameless.

Let me explain. A week or so ago, Sandy brought her two boys to my house to play with Flea. We all went to the park with a picnic. We had a great time. In fact, Flea was so taken with Presley and Cash that she decided to give them her Likeabike, which she’s outgrown.

A few days later, a parcel arrived for Flea. It contained a gorgeous thankyou card from Presley and Cash and a present – a Transformers Bumblebee toy. To say Flea was excited would be a massive understatement. She’s never had a Transformers toy of her own before but she was very keen to tell me that it’s a robot, and you can make it into a car. OHMYGOODNESS this was the most exciting toy EVER and it had to be transformed RIGHT NOW.

Half an hour later, after introducing Flea to some new words that are certainly not included in the key stage one curriculum , I had produced this: 


“It’s not really a very good car, is it, Mummy?” said Flea, astutely. “Do you want me to get the instructions?”

“I’ve got the bloody instructions,” I replied, in another sterling example of textbook positive parenting. “I just can’t work it out. Do you want to play with it like this?”

Flea looked at me doubtfully. “No thank you. Can you make it into a car?” 

Flea saw my expression. She saw the writing on the wall. She knew it was a doomed mission. "I know," she announced. "I'll ask Harry!" 

The next day, Flea gave her Transformers toy to Harry, who seamlessly transformed it into a sleek car in about 20 seconds. Then, just to annoy me, with a few flicks of his wrist, it was a robot again. Flea was overjoyed.

At this point I will tell you that Harry? Is my four-year-old nephew. I was in Mensa, for God's sake. And I'm being humiliated by a four-year-old who can't even tie his own shoes yet. And you know who I blame for this? Yes, Sandy Calico, I blame you, you destroyer of dreams.

PS: The card was lovely, though and we hope you'll come for another picnic soon. 

PPS: I really hate Transformers.

Sally & Flea


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