So there I was in our weekly news meeting discussing heavy stuff such as the latest Israeli/Palestinian drama and the guy who went on a killing spree in the Lake District when one of my colleagues casually pipes up, “Is that a star on your hand?”
I look quickly down. Er, yes, that would be one – a bright red one whose edges are beginning to curl up thanks to being plonked on my hand in a wet bathroom hours earlier by my two-and-a-half year old son.
Let me explain. For all of you who haven’t bred, giving a star sticker to a toddler is the equivalent of happy hour for an adult. Their little faces light up and they run around like hooligans on acid with their little trophy, which is usually given as a reward for doing something good (translation: what mommy or daddy really wants them to do).
In my case it meant the little tyke going to the toilet as opposed to standing proudly on the couch and spraying forth!
To clarify even further (just in case you still don’t get this) he gets the star but then mommy must get one too because that’s just how it works. Note to self: the sharing is caring mantra we’ve been going on for months now is clearly kicking in!
So to get back to the office, while all the other moms had a good giggle, empathising immediately with my plight, my boss (who in her own words is a proud non-breeder) stared at me blankly.
Don’t you know, I mumble embarrassingly, it’s for going to the toilet, not me, my son, it’s a reward thingie, involving stickers. . . I trail off. “Lordy, blog about it!” she suddenly yells, her eyes lighting up.
Okay then . . . in the meantime I’d better not let her see the bunch of nappies lurking behind my computer. How am I gonna explain that one, hell, I don’t even know how they got there in the first place!
Nici de Wet is a senior writer at YOU – and frazzled mom of two
* Watch this space for more kiddie-related trials and tribulations