On Wednesdays during school time, it’s just me and the Badoo. We potter about doing reading in the classrooms, lumbering through chores and paying visits. We are very chatty.
At the moment, she won’t listen, won’t do as she’s told and wants to rule the world. Her nickname is Badoo, but I want to change it to Badon’t. She whines and she grumbles and she pushes and she shouts. She makes me yell stupid things like ‘stop yelling’ and ‘if you don’t stop pushing your brother around I’m going to… I’m going to…”. What I’m going to do is the dreaded countdown. 1, 2… don’t make me get to 3… I’m going to say it… I’m nearly there… yes I am… don’t make me get there… you don’t want me to get there… I’m almost at thr… ah, there you are. We get there… eventually. She pushes, but I hope she never really calls my bluff because I’ve got absolutely nothing.
A couple of weeks ago I had my annual eye test (I am so short-sighted I think I’m about -0.25 away from needing man’s best friend as a constant companion). The Badoo just loves an accessory and had a complete meltdown about 5 seconds after this photo was taken because she wanted the glasses, had to have the glasses, wasn’t leaving without the darn glasses.
She is so loud and so horrific in melt-down mode that she radiates a kind of nuclear heat. The optometrist was fanning herself and looking at me in sheer terror. I was sweating.
In a desperate move to appease her, I gave her my own glasses to wear and triumphantly stumbled my way out of the store with a smiling Badoo in tow. I walked into a pole and insisted she give me back my glasses. She quickly consented, mainly because she realised she couldn’t see anything while wearing them. What a pair we made.
I love that little Badoo. She’s full of charisma and joie de vivre. She lights up a room with her party-light smile and she dances on tables as she walks up the street. She is loved wherever she goes.
Oh, she gets under your skin that one. Just not always in a good way…