Rockstar: Mum. Should I have the broccoli first, or the carrots?
Me: Up to you, darling, as long as you finish your dinner (which he does most nights anyway).
Rockstar: But… Which should I have first? Which do you want me to have first?
Me: It doesn’t matter to me, darling. And technically your stomach won’t know the difference either. Just eat whichever you feel like first. Green or orange.
Rockstar: But… Which do you want me to eat first?
Me: <thinking this could go on forever, just pick one> Carrots.
Rockstar: I think I’ll have the broccoli first.
Me: <mild exasperation> If you knew you wanted the broccoli first then WHY did you ask me? I didn’t even care which you were going to have first and then you made me pick one and you actually want the other one.
Rockstar: <nonplussed, after finishing his mouthful of broccoli> Finished. <conversationally> Now which should I have, Mum?
Me: C- No. No. You are not messing me around for your entertainment. Just…. watch Mr Maker and let me sit quietly (I wasn’t feeling well).
Rockstar: Hee. This is more fun.
Rockstar: Mum. Which book do you want to read first?
Me: It’s up to you, you decide.
Rockstar: <innocently> But which do you want to read first, Mummy.
Me: You’re doing it again, aren’t you?
Rockstar: Hee. Yeah.
Me: Why don’t you just tell me what you want. No, wait – you want the opposite of whatever I want.
Rockstar: <laughing> Yes.
Me: <accusingly> Did you pick this up from one of your clever, clever friends? How To Annoy Your Tired Mummy.
Rockstar: Hee No. They (would) follow me (on this one).
Me: Why don’t you do this to Daddy?
Rockstar: Be-ca-use……. <trails off>
Me: (??) Because what? Just call Daddy.
Rockstar: <obligingly> Daaaaa-deeeeeeee….
Kings appears in doorway and grunts questioningly.
Rockstar: <conversationally> Mummy asked you to read me a book, Daddy. Which do you want to read first?
Kings picks one without comment.
Rockstar: No, I want the other one.
Kings gets the other one without comment.
Rockstar: <pause> Actually…. This one.
Kings puts the other one down and picks a third without comment. As he starts reading…
Rockstar: I think I want the first one.
Kings: Tsk. <Carries on reading the one he’d already started on. Yes, without comment>.
Me: <aside, to Rockstar> Is that why you don’t usually do these things to Daddy?
Rockstar: Hee yeah.
Kings: Hmm? <carries on reading>
Kings finishes the book and then also the next one before purposefully heading back outside. Bloomberg beckons. By which time the Rockstar is asleep.
Suddenly, I understand why God makes Mummies and Daddies.