Witching hour on Planet Baby: a play with four scenes

Am I touching a nerve?

My lovelies, tell me, do any of you have a spare bottle of crisp, chilled riesling to share with me? I’m craving one right now. None in the fridge, only a bottle of bubbles and I don’t trust myself with that alone. It could get messy. And it can’t. Because I am still responsible for the pixies. Hmm, Mr PB is still at work. At 8 pm. Hmm, after the witching hour, no, make that hours, from hell. How many of you are nodding along out there? Anyone feeling my pain?

The day had been pedestrian enough. India and Sam at home with me and Joshie at school. Just the neighbours’ boy popping in and out all day, to play with India intermittently as their moods and squabbles allowed. Nothing unusual there. We even managed to keep the front door deadlocked all day so Quicksilver Sam didn’t make a getaway attempt from PB. We collected Joshie from school and then the usual afternoon commenced with the pixies watching the last half of ‘Play School’ while munching on muesli bars and Cruskits. My parents visited for a while and all was fine on our little planet.Then at 5.30 pm, the witching hours started.

Here’s a summary of the little play acted out on Planet Baby this evening.

Scene One: Dinnertime

Actors: Joshua, India and me (Sam in bed having his night time bottle and Mr PB at work)

Setting:

Variously at the pixies’ table, on top of the pixies’ table, at the ‘big table’, on the sitting room couch, on the lounge room couch, in the pixies’ bedroom, in the bathroom, in our bedroom, on the verandah…(so are you starting to get the picture?)

Précis:

India was content with having fish fingers and chips for dinner (her request as it was “her turn”). Joshua was not. Much protestation. Tears. Joshua resolved to eat his dinner.

Someone poked someone and then it started. Squabbling. Tears. Pixies running to me to “tell on you”. I sent them back to their table. Repeat performance of actions.

I requested Joshua to sit at the big table so they could both eat in peace. Joshua fled to his room, howling because he didn’t like getting into trouble. India started crying because well, I forget why. Two children crying.

Sam started laughing. Joshua leapt into his cot to play with him. I pulled him out. He cried. I started, yes, yelling at the pixies to “Sit down at your table and eat your dinner!” Repeat performance ad infinitem for about an hour.

Oh, and then there was the ‘dessert squabble’ as they didn’t want to share one tub of Frûche. Many tears and much fleeing to the bedroom. Arguments. Eventually resolved by sharing. Grudgingly.

Followed by plenty of ‘mucking around’. I was ‘busy’ in the bedroom, listening to Sam laughing. Hmm, not asleep. And no Mr PB.

Scene Two: Teeth cleaning

Actors: As above

Setting:

Variously in the bathroom, outside the bathroom, in our bedroom and in the pixies’ bedroom.

Précis:

I cleaned India’s teeth. Joshua was still eating his dessert. I waited patiently for him to finish eating. India decided she wanted more dessert. I protested that her teeth had been cleaned. She wailed. I was exhausted. My PND was hitting home hard. No Mr PB in range. I succumbed. I was picking my battles tonight. She started eating again.

I cleaned Joshua’s teeth. India was still eating. It was now 7 pm. I agreed to take her toothbrush to the bedroom to clean them there.

Scene Three: Skylarks

Actors: As above

Setting: The pixies’ bedroom

Précis:

I walked into their bedroom to discover a mess. Everywhere. As usual. Muttering under my breath as they ignored my entreaties to assist, I scurried around, collecting clothes to put in their open drawers and throwing their blankets back on their beds. I discovered they’d been playing with ‘Hungry, Hungry Hippos’. Are any of you familiar with it? 

See those pesky little balls?

There should have been 24 little balls. Make that 23 as one went AWOL months ago. There were 21. Hmm, two unaccounted for. The kind of thing Quicksilver Sam would find on his cruising travels tomorrow. Hmm, a potential choking, make that death, hazard. I scoured the floor. No pesky white balls in sight. No assistance from the pixies who were ‘mucking around’. Maybe they had rolled under Joshie’s bed.

I upended the heavy mattress, leaning it against the wardrobe. The pixies pounced on it, using it as a springboard to fly across the room. The mattress fell and smashed the plastic fitting on the bed lamp attached to Joshie’s bed. Oh, and the new globe broke. Hmm, I was tired, irritated and still no Mr PB in sight. Oh, and did I mention I was starving as well? I ferreted around under his bed, pulling out about 5,000 of the pixies’ artworks. No balls. Hmm, not happy, Jan. Then I found one hidden away. One more to find. I was too exhausted to bother looking for the last one.

The pixies were becoming increasingly ratty and I started bellowing at them. Most unusual for me. But I had had enough. There was more carrying on. The pixies refused to let go of the mattress. After much arguing and heaving, I finally managed to prise it off them and land it onto the bed. At this point, I was SO OVER IT. I then did something most uncharacteristic and smacked their little Pull-ups-padded bottoms. Torrents of tears followed. I prised India’s lips apart and cleaned her teeth. She spilt the water all over the carpet. And you know what? I didn’t care. I kissed them and sternly admonished them not to even consider leaving their beds and to go to sleep immediately.

Scene Four: In our bedroom

Actors: Just me. Older pixies quiet and Sam finally asleep. Mr PB still at work.

Précis: I sat down at the computer and started typing…

Hmm, it’s 9.30 pm. I’m starving. And exhausted. Still no Mr PB. And no wine...

PS Two days later, I found the missing white ball. Just as Sammy was putting it in his mouth...