Shit my kid ruins.

This post is inspired by a website I stumbled across whilst wasting time on the interweb the other day. It is imaginatively titled 'Shit my kids ruined'. The clue is in the title. Go and check it out, it is VERY funny, whether you have kids or not. In fact, if you don't have kids, you'll probably breathe out a sigh of relief whilst simultaneously glancing smugly at your minimalist living room and your pristine white sofa.
I have a kid who loves to ruin shit. Oh how I empathised with the parents who had submitted those photographs as I scrolled through them, a knowing smile on my face all the while. I wonder if there is a parent out there who hasn't had a treasured item of furniture/carpet/item of clothing (delete as necessary) completely ruined by their little darling(s).

My little prince is three months shy of his third birthday. The past year has been a particularly productive one for ruining stuff. I honestly didn't appreciate quite how destructive toddlers can be until I had one of my own. Sure, we had thought of all the obvious things like moving all glass objects out of his reach for the foreseeable future, and pens below waist height are a no no of course. There are child locks on all of the kitchen doors lest he swallow some sort of toxic substance, but also because I don't want my wedding china smashed to smithereens with a wooden toy Hammer. The poor Dog is daft enough too, he certainly can't afford to lose any Neurones as a result of a bang to the head with a Le Creuset saucepan.
No matter how prepared you think you are for a certain amount of toddler destruction, they are always one step ahead. It would never have occured to me for example, that my child would find an overripe Banana in my bag, clean the window with it and wipe his hands on the curtains. I still well up when I recall the time when I emerged from the shower to discover that he had removed the head from my electric toothbrush and carved a swirly pattern with the sharp metal bit into the headboard of my Three Thousand pound (ouch) Walnut sleigh bed.

Most of the destruction seems to occur when I am in the shower. I often come out to a scene of devastation. What am I supposed to do, not wash? Is this the fate that befalls all parents of toddlers, or is mine particularly destructive? I would also be interested to know if Boys are more destructive than Girls. Answers on a postcard please.........

In the meantime, here are some pictures of the Master at work.

Thankfully he has grown out of it now, but the Little Prince used to crawl into the fireplaces at every opportunity, covering himself and everything in his path in soot.

This was a shower incident. I came out- and there he was daubed in mascara. Funnily enough, the only place he hadn't got it was his eyelashes.

This delightful incident took place last week. It went quiet- a BAD sign. I found the little sod in the back bedroom having unzipped a Pouffe. There were eleventy million polystyrene balls everywhere. Ever try cleaning them up? They stick to bloody EVERYTHING. I kid you not, I was even picking them out from between the child's Butt cheeks. It took Mr Nudie and I two hours and two vacuum cleaners to clear that shit up.

Looks pretty chuffed with himself, doesn't he? I think his exact words were 'Look! I makin Snowman'

Grrrr. That is all.

A week on. I'm still finding those poxy balls everywhere..................