Time out means different things to different people.
When you are 3, it means three minutes in the "naughty corner".
When you are 4, it's four minutes.
Five, five minutes.
Etcetera.
And when you are 40, with a 5 and almost-3-year-old, it's something you can only dream of.
Yep, I would quite happily be given 40 minutes
(a minute-per-year-of-age as prescribed by Supernanny) several times a day to sit in silence and contemplate my navel.
However, for little people it is a fate worse than death.
Having to sit still and, worst of all, be ignored sends then into a frenzy.
Which is why it was the answer to all our problems when we introduced the technique to our unruly offspring.
A handful of Time Outs later, Miss Five was as meek as a lamb.
The mere threat of the big, bad T.O. was met with instant compliance.
Her little sister was a harder nut to crack but, eventually, we got there.
And for one glorious week we had her just where we wanted her.
T.O. became my new best friend.
The mere threat of Time Out would stop her undesirable behaviour.
And for those occasions when we actually had to enforce it, there were earmuffs.
But then things took an unexpected turn.
Miss Two, who, statistically, only has six weeks left of the "terrible twos", decided to restore the balance of power - in her favour.
She would pull the cat's tail, hit her sister and draw on the furniture with the express intent of being put in Time Out.
Once in T.O, she would do all manner of gymnastics - headstands, forward rolls and some manoeuvres that are yet to be named - to try and get my attention.
And when the microwave timer beep-beeped, she would take the lead: "Why did I put you in Time Out?" she would ask herself, before I could get a word in edgeways.
Clearly, I was being mocked.
At which point, I felt my own tantrum coming on. T.O. was now short for seriously Ticked Off.
A few days later, she dropped the naughty act altogether and simply asked, for no particular reason to be put in Time Out.
"OK, off you go," I conceded.
And while she sat quietly at one end of the room, I sat at the other and had three minutes to myself.
Just when I was beginning to think Time Out doesn't work.
