A mum-of-two bumbling from one disaster to the next.

Beck Vass: My morning from hell just got worse

When my daughter came waddling over like a cowboy, I knew things were bad.  Photo / Getty
When my daughter came waddling over like a cowboy, I knew things were bad. Photo / Getty

"Mummaaaaa," my four-year-old daughter shouted across a field, waddling, legs wide apart and clutching at her backside.

"I'm sorry ... but ... I need to go to the toilet."

It was REALLY loud and, because it was school holidays, there were more people than usual at the waterfront park - a popular after work spot for sports training, dog walking and beautiful sunsets before dinner time.

I was not really surprised. It had been the Morning From Hell (although, in fairness to her, mostly because of her two-year-old brother's antics).

"It is too late?" I yelled.

"Yeah."

More waddling.

"But don't worry," she shouted. "It's just a little nugget."

Could the ground please just swallow me up right now?

Well, I suppose it's solid, at least. That would be the best thing that's happened to me all day.

As Nugget-gate was going on, her brother was "driving" a cricket pitch roller machine. It's always at the park and both of them always want to sit on it.

Removing him from his current activity was not going to be easy. I had just dealt with a complete meltdown from him where he'd hid under my car after his very own not-just-a-nugget incident.

Why there is so much resistance over getting a clean butt is beyond me, but he has been highly distressed by my assistance in such matters for approximately 18 months.

My mind was scanning for manipulation techniques while I watched his sister, still walking like a cowboy, some 20 metres away.

"Do YOU want a piggy back?" I asked him oozing fake excitement, hoping my desperation would not be so obvious as to have the opposite effect.

To my surprise, and relief, he hopped on my back and we did little horsey jumps all the way over to Miss Waddling, and then on to the toilets.

With my son on my back, I dealt with my daughter's problem which, thankfully, was as she'd described it, and asked her to complete the task.

We washed our hands and began making our way back to the car. We'd come to the park to have a fish and chips picnic because I thought it might overwrite the horrendous morning we'd had.

It had been lovely sitting down to eat filth as fit people ran past me before spending the rest of the time cleaning up $#!+.

It had been a VERY long day.

Finally, I got to celebrate the end of it with cold fish and chips and a baby bottle of bubbles.

This wasn't quite what I had in mind.  Photo / Supplied
This wasn't quite what I had in mind. Photo / Supplied

- NZ Herald

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A mum-of-two bumbling from one disaster to the next.

Beck Vass is a former Herald reporter who is going openly insane while looking after her two children at home. She spends her days wandering from room to room with a dishcloth wondering what it was she went there for. She sometimes finds herself in public with her shirt on inside out too. Beck likes her coffee strong and her gins even stronger.

Read more by Beck Vass

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