On and on and on it went. Normally I would just give in but he had been such a little sh*t the day before that my resolve was holding firm.
'Go downstairs and watch Netflix' I muttered from under the duvet.
*WAIL* 'But I want the DS! Why can't I have the DS?! You're a mean mummy'
'I'll be a lot meaner if you don't stop whinging and go downstairs now'
To my disbelief he actually went. Whinging and thumping all the way down.
Over the next half hour I could hear extended periods of wailing, followed by silence, followed by even louder wailing.
I wouldn't recommend it as an alarm call.
A little while later he arrived exasperated by my bedside.
'Urgh! Netflix needs a pin number and you're not coming, so I had to do lots of boring PRAYING instead!'
*Flops down in holy exhaustion*
