Chickie The Menace

“He’s not normally like this, I’m really sorry. I think he’s tired”

The excuses were coming thick and fast as I tried to convince Cecilia, Vicky and a perfectly behaved baby Lola, that Chickie was usually a lovely, well behaved child and not an out of control minion of anarchy.

What did he do? What didn't he do! It started with screaming on arrival when Cecilia tried to give him a hug followed by sobbing whilst clinging to my leg. When he finally let go of my leg it was to make a run for it back down her garden path.

Upon retrieval, attempts to extract my car keys from his vice like grip prompted tantrum Number Two.

Tantrum Number Three began when he was confined to the living room. After chasing him around in circles for most of the morning all doors were finally closed. Each time a door was opened, Chickie could be found hanging from the door knob.

When the kitchen door was left open for a nano second, he was in Cecilia's kitchen cupboards before you could say, "NOOOoo, Chickie, put the baked beans back now!" which is where Tantrum Number Four began.

Then commenced the throwing. Sandwiches, keys, blocks, baked beans. Vicky was quick to form a protective shield around Lola with her hands.

Oh, then there was the biting. Firstly my trousers/leg and then Cecilia’s nice leather sofas.

Finally, ashamed and exhausted from his exploits, I apologised profusely and carried my disgraced and still screaming son to the car where he objected forcefully to being put in his car seat.

That was the point I realised I may never be able to go out in public again.