The Tea pot chronicles
Sunday, 22 April 2012
For his second birthday last week, one of The Toddlers gifts (from Thing Two) was a tea set.
It's been a major hit and he adores playing with it.
However, I have a problem. When it comes to new toys that have pieces I'm a tad obsessive. When Thing One got a toy cooker when he was a toddler I'd spend ages obsessing over the accessories, searching high and low each evening until they were all present and correct places in the exact right places. When The Toddler got a fabulous wooden double decker bus for Christmas, I'd fixate over the little wooden people even recruiting Thing One and Thing Two each evening to scour the hazard zone also known as our lounge until they were all located and aboard the bus. This strange compulsive behaviour is especially bemusing considering that I'm actually somewhat of a scruffy bint.
So it starts again, this particular tea set came complete in a rather nifty carrying case, perfect for ensuring all pieces are kept together, just as they should be. After all, a partial tea set is a particularly crap tea set, no?
On the first day, a spoon went missing. The green one to be exact. I could feel that twitch in my chest like the rapid motion of wasp wings as my eyes darted panic ridden around the room yet somehow I managed to sedate my irrational mania with copious amounts of chocolate whilst my inner zen chanted 'there is no spoon....'
It worked. For a while. I was absolutely calm...serenity was my new middle name. Chilled, cool that was me.
Then, the teapot went missing. Now that I could not ignore, there was no suppressing the frantic anxiety this time, it leap loose like a beast that had been caged and went rabid. I looked everywhere. I emptied boxes, tubs draws, his house. I moved the sofas (& then pretended I hadn't seen all the junk that had accumulated beneath it and pushed the sofa back in place. No time to sort that out. There was an AWOL tea pot) Even the recovering of the green spoon wasn't enough to sate my melancholy.
Things became desperate. The Husband refused to look. He just doesn't understand, oh the devastating woe of a husband who just doesn't understand! How could he not even be a smidgen perturbed by a missing tea pot? how on earth can one play tea parties with no blasted tea pot! It absolutely and irrevocably ruined the entire tea set and terminated all future prospects of fun.
So I called in reinforcements. I set Thing One and Thing Two loose on the case with the promised reward of £1.50 to whoever found it.
Bingo! Thing Two, my super finder of all things missing, found it. Give the girl a prize, or £1.50 should I say.
So I sat, lovingly placing it all neatly into the case (which The Toddler always grabs as soon as I finish doing this and with a manic grin and a glint of possession in his eyes he twirls the case and throws it's entire contents scattering around the room. Gah)
Didn't matter though. I genuinely didn't care because we had the tea pot!
Total, absolute cataclysm.
I went to bed thinking of teapots. Not helpful to an insomniac.
However, Thing Two to the rescue. She found it and it only cost me an extra 50p!
Usually the fixation of completeness wears off. I hope it happens soon. I don't think my fragile sanity can take much more of this.
The moral to this tale? If you are obsessive with pieces, don't buy small children anything that has them. Ever.