Comfortable soft toys for sleeping
I left my husband with the kids for a week-long trip, assuming there would be no problem. But when I got home, I found my boys sleeping on the cold, dirty hallway floor.
My heart dropped. Something was wrong. Was there a fire? Was there a flood? No, my husband should have let me know.
I switched off the lights and, stepping carefully over the boys, moved deeper into the house.
I opened our bedroom door and it was empty. My husband had left at midnight? That was odd.
So I went to check the boys’ room, preparing for the worst.
I walked over and heard muffled noises. I quietly opened the door without turning on the light to see what was going on in there. I gasped loudly when I saw Mark in the dim light, headphones in, controller in hand, surrounded by empty energy drink cans and snack wrappers. But that wasn’t the weirdest part.
The place had been turned into a gamer’s paradise. A large TV took up one wall, there were LED lights everywhere, and that monstrosity in the corner was probably a mini fridge.
I was in shock and Mark didn’t even notice me because he was so engrossed in his game.
I took the headphones off his head. ‘Mark! ‘What the hell is going on?’
He looked at me, ‘Oh, hi, honey. ‘You’re home early.’
‘Early? It’s already midnight! ‘Why are our kids sleeping on the floor?’
He reached for the controller. ‘Oh, it’s all right. The boys were content to sleep outside. They thought it was an adventure.’
I snatched up the controller. ‘An adventure?’ They’re not camping, Mark! ‘They’re sleeping on the dirty floor in the corridor!’
‘Come on, don’t be such a drag,’ he pleaded, trying to get the controller back. ‘Everything’s under control.’ ‘I’ve been feeding them and everything.’
‘Feeding them?’ You mean the pizza and ice cream boxes in the living room? I could feel my blood pressure rising with each word. ‘What about the baths? Or, I don’t know, their real beds?’
Mark rolled his eyes. ‘There’s nothing wrong with them, Sarah. Relax a little.’
That’s where I lost my mind.
‘Relax?’ EASE UP? Our kids are sleeping on the floor like animals while you play video games in their room! ‘What’s wrong with you?’
‘There’s nothing wrong with me,’ he hummed. I’m just trying to enjoy some free time.’ ‘Is that so terrible?’
I tried not to scream. ‘You know what? We’re not doing this right now. Go put the boys in their cots. Now.’
‘But I’m in the middle of…’
‘NOW, Mark!’
He muttered, but got up and brushed past me.
I picked Alex up, my heart breaking at how dirty his face was. As I tucked him into bed, I came to a conclusion. If Mark wants to act like a child, then that’s how I will treat him.
The next morning I put my plan into action.
While Mark showered, I snuck into the man cave he had created and unplugged everything. Then I got to work.
When he came downstairs, I was waiting for him with a wide smile. ‘Good morning, honey! ‘I made you breakfast!’
He stared at me curiously. ‘Thanks?’
I handed him a plate of Mickey Mouse-shaped pancakes with a fruity smiley face on them. His coffee was in a drinking cup.
‘What’s this?’ – He asked, picking at a pancake.
‘It’s your breakfast, silly! Now eat up, we have a busy day ahead of us!’
After breakfast, I showed off my masterpiece: a massive, colourful table of chores pinned to the fridge. ‘Look what I made for you!’
Mark’s eyes widened. ‘What the hell is that?’
‘Language!’ I scolded. ‘It’s your own table of duties! See? You can earn gold stars for cleaning your room, doing the dishes, and putting away your toys!’
‘My toys? Sarah, what are you-’
I interrupted him. ‘Oh, and don’t forget! We have a new rule. All screens must be switched off at 9pm sharp. That includes your phone, dude!’
The look on Mark’s face changed from bewildered to furious. ‘Are you kidding me?’ I’m a grown man, and I don’t need to-’
‘Ah, ah, ah!’ I wagged my finger. ‘No arguments, or you’ll have to go to the time-out corner!’
For the whole of the next week, I stuck to my judgement. Every night at 9 o’clock, I turned off the wifi and unplugged his game console.
I even put him to bed with a glass of milk and read ‘Goodnight Moon’ to him in my best soothing voice.
His food was served on plastic plates with little dividers. I cut his sandwiches into dinosaur shapes and gave him animal crackers for a snack. When he complained, I’d tell him something like, ‘Use your words, honey. Big boys don’t whine.’
A particular point of contention was the chore chart. Every time he completed a task, I would award him with a gold star.
‘Look at you, you did your own laundry! Mummy’s so proud!’
He gritted his teeth and mumbled: ‘I’m not a child, Sarah.’
To which I replied: ‘Of course you’re not, dear.’ ‘So, who wants to help make biscuits?’
The turning point came about a week after my little experiment began. Mark had just been sent to the time-out corner for complaining about the two-hour screen time limit. He sat there seething as I calmly set the timer in the kitchen.
‘This is ridiculous!’ – he exclaimed. ‘I’m a grown man, for God’s sake!’
I raised an eyebrow. ‘О? Are you sure about that? Because grown men don’t make their kids sleep on the floor so they can play video games all night.’
He deflated a little. ‘Okay, okay, I get it! I’m sorry!’
I studied him for a moment. He looked genuinely remorseful, but I wasn’t about to let him off the hook when I had one last punch left.
‘Oh, I accept your apology,’ I said sweetly. ‘But I’ve already called your mum…’
The colour faded from his face. ‘You didn’t call.’
As expected, there was a knock on the door. Opening it, I saw Mark’s mum looking like a disappointed parent.
‘Mark!’ – She said as she entered the house. ‘Did you really make my sweet children sleep on the floor so you could play your little games?’
Mark seemed to want the floor to open up and swallow him whole. ‘Mummy, it’s not…’ ‘I don’t…’
She looked at me, her expression softening. ‘Sarah, honey, I’m so sorry you had to face this. ‘I thought I raised him better than this.’
I patted her hand. ‘It’s not your fault, Linda.’ ‘It’s just that some boys take longer to grow up than others.’
Mark’s face was beet red. ‘Mum. Please. ‘I’m thirty-five years old!’
Linda ignored him, turning to me again. ‘Well, don’t worry. I’ve cleared everything out of my schedule for next week. I’ll get this boy in shape in no time!’
As Linda left for the kitchen, muttering about the state of the dishes, I caught a glimpse of Mark. He looked utterly defeated.
‘Sarah,’ he said quietly. ‘I’m really sorry. I was selfish and irresponsible. It won’t happen again.’
I softened a little. ‘I understand, honey. But when I’m not home, I need to know you’re in control. Boys need a father, not another playmate.’
He nodded demeaningly. ‘You’re right. ‘I promise to be better.’
I grinned and kissed him briefly. ‘I’m sure you will. Now, why don’t you help Mum do the dishes? If you do a good job, maybe we can have ice cream for dessert.’
Mark left for the kitchen and I felt a little smug. I hoped I had learnt my lesson. If not, I still had a time-out corner at the ready.
