My daily newspaper and the four year old girl.

As regular readers of my blog will know, I am deeply involved with an older woman, who in addition to owning a sexy little car and an even sexier body is the proud grandmother to a four-year old, who will henceforth be known as the Force of Nature.  A Force of Nature for whom we of course occasionally babysit.  Now don’t get me wrong I adore the little rug rat.  She’s cheeky, funny, sweet, actually plays Minecraft (well beats up the sheep and cows anyway) and she also does a great thick Dublin accent.  Hearing her say “Winter” as “Weeeiinthaaar”, is without a doubt one of the funniest moments in any day.  But as great as she is to babysit, there is one period when minding her is torture.  I speak of course about the morning after.

I am not by any means a morning person. For example I consider 9am in exactly the same way that I think of 5am.  It’s the middle of the frikkin night, now shut up and let me sleep.  As someone who deals with a lot of physical pain on a daily basis and so suffers from insomnia,  I have come to absolutely treasure my sleep.  But our semi-resident four-year old is of the considered opinion that, when she is awake we should all be awake.  Yes that’s correct dearest reader, night ends when her eyes open and the whole world has to wake up, ready to service her every whim.

Even on a morning when I manage to sleep late, I have certain habits which help me to wake up and ease into the day.  Usually I wake up, take some medications and while I wait for them to work I get what housekeeping needs doing, done.  Then I sit down at my PC with a couple of slices of toast and a very lesbian (fruit) tea, then the digital editions of various morning newspapers are devoured.  I love reading my morning newspapers.  I love taking small sips of scalding hot lesbian tea and diving into the analysis segments.  Even more I truly enjoy reading the loony bin and crack pot thinking shared with the world in any daily papers “Letters to the Editor” segment.  It brings me joy.

But not on the mornings when the Force of Nature has been to stay.  Those mornings are usually typified by variations on the following conversation.

Force of Nature,  still dressed in the pajamas she point-blank refuses to get out of, walks up just as I finish opening up all of the articles I want to read on their individual browser tabs.   “Amanda.”

I smile lovingly, having forgotten for the moment the last ten times this has happened.  “Yes Force of Nature?”

“Can I play my game?”  Referring of course to Minecraft.

“When I’m finished with what I’m doing.”

“Okay.”

I start to read the first article and about half way through a voice comes from behind me.

“Amanda..?”

“Yes Force of Nature?”

“When will that be?”

I swallow, my mouth is unaccountably dry.  Oh Goddesses, I think to myself,  it’s started again.

“I’ll be finished when I’m finished.  You need to learn some patience madam.”

“Okay.”

I finish my first article and swallowing another delicious mouthful of good lesbian tea I hear from behind me, “Amanda..?”

Oh dear Goddess, “What Force of Nature?”

“Are you done now?  Can we play my game now?”

“No I am not done, I will tell you when I’m finished.  Now if you don’t leave me in peace to read, we won’t play your game at all today.”

“Bu..bu..but. NANNY Amanda won’t play my game with me!”

In walks my beautiful partner. “Now Force of Nature, she already told you that you can play when she’s finished.”

“Bu…but Naaaaanny!”

This of course goes on in much the same vein for quite some time and by the end my brains have half melted and poured out of one of my ears.  I Amanda Harper, a dominatrix of an obscure school of BDSM am a broken woman, who wants nothing more than to curl up with a teddy bear and sob for hours.  Only two thoughts now echo in my mind.

1: Thank you Goddesses for my being sterile.

and

2: My partner in addition to being hotness personified is a living saint.  She raised three of those and didn’t find herself in prison for manslaughter.

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