So, my ongoing campaign to become Lifetime President of the Bad Mummy Club continues apace, as I accidentally punched my child in the face yesterday while fighting with the f****ing car seat straps.
I admit, I was distracted by the fact that Flea was singing her new favourite song, which basically involves singing a commentary to what she’s doing at any given moment, to a random series of notes: “I am lifting up my bottom, I am climbing in my seat….ooooooooh…..I am putting my arms in, yes I am, I am putting my arms in……” at the TOP of her voice.
Not annoying in the slightest, obviously.
Flea is still in her iMaxi Cosi with a 5-point strap (the box says suitable until age 4, and I’m not buying a new seat a moment before, thankyou). So I’m reaching over to try and get the clip on the farside strap and, of course, the strap has twisted, so the clip won’t move an inch, and I’m tugging, and tugging and suddenly my hand slips and – oops.
All the way to Grandma’s house it was: “My Mummy hit me, yes she did…oooh….I was sad because Mummy hit me and we don’t hit people, no we don’t, no we don’t….Mummy is NAUGHTY….”
Sigh.
