Like many pop divas of her generation, The Pixie has attached a pretty impressive rider to her ongoing contract as my daughter.
Here is a small sample of some of her special requirements:
- Strictly no crusts on bread, no icing on cake, no skin on fruit and no seeds in bread, watermelon, etc. The appearance of any of these items will immediately render a meal null and void.
- Clothing for The Pixie must be chosen by The Pixie and put on by The Pixie. Any discussion regarding clothing being season-inappropriate or on backwards and/or inside-out will not be entered into. The Pixie’s word on what she wears and how she wears it is final.
- When the Pixie makes her grand entrance of a morning, the parent on duty must exclaim “Pixie!” in a sufficiently ebullient manner or The Pixie will take immediately to her bed in floods of tears.
- Upon occasion, excreta will only be passed with a parent on guard outside the toilet door *for the duration*. There will be other times when the parent is forbidden to loiter outside said toilet door and, instead, must ‘go away’. The Pixie is not legally required to communicate her needs in these matters, the parent must just ‘know’ and woe betide the parent who gets it wrong.
Another three-and-a-half year old we know, Master J, has successfully negotiated his own rider with his parents. In many aspects, it is more impressive than The Pixie’s because he’s an eldest child and we all know what that means. Here is a very small example of some of his conditions:
- After bath, Master J must be carried to the couch.
- Once on the couch, Master J must be immediately covered in his “cuddly blanket” or “luhpi” , formerly known as his mother’s dressing gown. (As the once-was-owner of The Duck One, I know his mother’s pain). This act of covering must be performed by his mother – *there is no substitute*.
- Milk must then be served *in the specified drinky pot* within 5 minutes at a temperature of exactly (no less, no more) 36.9 degrees centigrade. *Milk not meeting these requirements will be returned immediately to the kitchen and loud wailing will ensue*.
The best thing about all this is that The Pixie has many times proclaimed that Master J and she will be married when they’re “growned up”. I, for one, will be very interested to see their pre-nup.
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Once again. it’s funny because it’s true. I’ve often said that living with a toddler is like being a roadie in a rock band. Except with less tantrums.
If Heat Magazine is to be believed then Madonna sounds like a toddler hybrid. Can you imagine the Heat equivalent with under-fives instead? “Just look at the cereal stain on Pixie’s Duck One!” ” ‘We WILL marry’ declares Pixie. But who was Master J playing kiss-chase with in Kinder?”
I’ve also got a theory that royalty and aristocracy are toddlers that never matured because nobody dared tell them how ridiculous their demands were. So they just kept on making them.