‘I could do that,’ announced Nick, as he slouched on the sofa, a Stella in one hand, the remote in the other.
‘Do what?’ Debbie said, glancing up from the ironing.
‘I could be a house-husband, looking after the kids.’
‘Like hell you could,’ she scoffed, folding a toddler-size vest, ‘you’ve barely changed the twin’s nappies since they were born. It might have escaped your notice - they’re nearly two.’
‘It's not my fault …I’m always at work,’ he protested.
‘Not twenty four hours a day.’ She shook her head as she picked up a pair of small pink trousers. ‘You couldn’t cope on your own for a day with Molly and the twins.’
Nick pulled himself upright, ‘hey, I’ll have you know I’m perfectly capable of looking after my own kids …I’ll tell you what….I’ll look after them tomorrow and you can go shopping or whatever.’
Debbie put the iron down.
‘Did I hear you right? You are offering to look after them tomorrow?’
‘Yeah, why not? It’ll be fun.’
‘All of ‘em?’
‘Yeah, I’ll be fine, it’ll be a doddle.’
Debbie grinned as she reached for her mobile.
***
Nick slowly pulled back his duvet to reveal four year old Molly standing by the bed, her blonde hair covering much of her face.
‘Where’s Mummy?’ She said, rubbing her eyes.
‘Mummy’s gone out for the day, so daddy’s gonna look after you and the twins today.’
‘Oh,’ was all she could muster, and then ran from the bedroom.
He pulled himself out of bed and wondered what had possessed him last night to offer to look after them. Debs hadn't wasted any time organising her day. Within five minutes she’d informed him that she wouldn’t be home until at least six.
Oliver stood in the doorway clutching a moth-eared white rabbit, his twin brother Elliot by his side.
‘Mum-mee’ Oliver said.
‘Oh, hello boys,’ Nick replied, pulling up his trousers, ‘now... mummy isn’t here. She’s gone shopping with Aunty Lucy, but guess what? Daddy is going to look after you today.’
Both of them burst into tears. Nick wasn’t sure how to deal with this one. Fortunately for him, Molly came out of her bedroom, put her arms around their shoulders and they stopped crying. All three of them stood staring at him.
‘Right.’ He took a deep breath. ‘Let’s go and get breakfast.’
Once in the kitchen Nick established, via his daughter, that all three children ate ‘Weddy Bwek’, with a dash of chocolate spread followed by marmite on toast. Molly handed him the box, and watched as he began to stir in water to the oats.
‘Mummy uses milk, Daddy.’ she said handing him a carton of milk.
‘Oh, okay. ’
He looked down at his daughter who now giving him ‘the look’ that she’d obviously mastered from her mother. He glanced at the boys. They had now climbed onto their seats at the table and were sitting with their heads in their hands watching him. He started again, mixed the milk with the oats, placed the bowl in the microwave and punched the five minute button.
‘So what shall we do today then?’
‘Shops,’ said Molly, still standing by his side. Nick grinned. Yes, she was her mother's daughter.
‘How about the park?’ He suggested.
‘Yes, park,’ piped up Elliot, clapping his hands.
‘Slide,’ said Oliver grinning.
‘Can we go to the shops and the park daddy?’ Asked Molly.
‘Why not.’ He ruffled her hair. He’d show Debbs how well he could cope.
Nick looked through the glass of the microwave, the oats were bubbling over the sides of the bowl. He opened up the door and grabbed at the bowl, not anticipating how hot it would be, before promptly dropping it on the floor.
‘Oopsie,’ Oliver said. Both boys held their hands over their mouths giggling.
He looked down at the broken bowl, the mess on the floor and then to Molly.
‘Mummy won’t be very pleased with you daddy.’
He didn’t say anything, but gathered up the broken bowl. She handed him a tea towel and he began to clear it up.
He looked at the clock, only eight and a half hours to go.
Half an hour later and he stood with his hands on his head and glanced around the kitchen. All three had disappeared into the living room. There were dishes, plates, spoons and upturned cups on the table. Every work surface was covered in dirty bowls with hardening hot oats from his various attempts at getting it close to ‘Mummy’s standard.’ He started to place the dishes in the dishwasher, when there was a shout from Molly.
‘Daddy, Olly’s pooed’
He sighed, the dishes would have to wait until later.
’Come on then, the lot of you,’ he said taking Oliver’s hand, ‘I’d better change your nappies and get you all dressed, otherwise mummy won’t be very impressed.’ He marched them up the stairs. This is where he knew he may need some fashion advice.
‘Molly, can you help daddy to find something for the boys to wear?’
‘Okay,’ she replied, smiling as she raced off into their bedroom.
He decided to deal with the offending smell first. He picked Oliver up and placed him on his bed.
‘What’s that?’ His son asked, pointing to a picture on the wall.
‘That’s mummy and daddy when they got married. Now let’s get your jim-jams off.’
‘What’s that Daddy?’ He said, pointing at the bedside lamp.
‘That’s a lamp Oliver. Can you help me here? Let’s get this top off, arms up.’
‘What’s that Daddy?’
‘That’s Mummy’s mirror, and next to it are Mummy‘s perfumes. Okay, young man, nappy off.’
He pulled open the tabs, screwed up his face and turned his head away in disgust.
‘Oliver, that’s gross.’
‘Gross.’ Oliver repeated, giggling.
It was at this point he realised not only did he not have any wipes, but he’d not brought a clean nappy either.
‘Molly,’ he shouted, whilst holding the nappy together. He was relieved it was the weekend, and she wasn’t at nursery.
‘Gross, gross, gross,’ giggled Oliver again.
‘Yes,Daddy,’ she answered, appearing at the door with a pair of red trousers, an orange ‘I am a monster’ top and green socks.
‘Can you get daddy the wipes and nappy please, and Molly, where is Elliot?’
‘Okay Daddy and I’ll find him for you,’ she said, skipping off.
Nick knew she was enjoying feeling needed and boy did he need her. Oliver was now getting impatient and struggling to turn over.
‘No, Oliver stop moving,’ he said firmly.
‘Gross.’ Oliver said, moving his hips and legs about. The debris in the nappy was now beginning to show at the edges.
‘Molly, can you hurry with the nappy, please,’ he shouted.
‘Uh oh.’ He heard her say as she passed him the wipes and nappy.
‘Daddy, you’re not going to be pleased with Elliot. He’s put the toilet roll down the toilet and squirted toothpaste all over the carpet.’
‘Elliot, come here at once,’ Nick shouted, while opening the wipes with one hand and strategically holding Oliver and nappy down with the other.
‘I’ll get him for you Daddy,’ said Molly.
‘Oliver, can you stop moving now please, so daddy can clean you up.’
‘No.’
‘Oliver, stop wriggling.’
‘No.’
He wiped what he could before Oliver did a one hundred and eighty degree turn. The nappy turned, poo-side down onto the newly washed duvet cover.
‘Oliver,’ he shouted, ‘that’s very naughty.’
‘Gross.’
He managed to wipe the rest of his sons bum, turn him back over and put on the clean nappy. Molly pulled Elliot into the bedroom, his pyjamas covered in toothpaste and a mysterious pink substance.
‘He found Mummy’s special shower gel,’ she said, her eyes turning towards the ceiling.
‘Elliot, that’s very naughty,’ Nick said, trying to clear the mess off the duvet whilst Oliver, in just his nappy, was trying to jump up and down on the bed.
‘Stop it. You’re going to fall off. Let me get you down.’ He grabbed his half naked son and removed him from the bed. Elliot joined his twin and they both ran off.
‘Would you like some help Daddy?’ Molly asked, with an angelic ‘I would never do a thing wrong’ look.
‘Yes, please sweetie. Can you watch the twins while I take off this duvet and clean the mess in the bathroom?’
He sighed and watched his little helper go off to boss her siblings around.
Moments later, he heard a shout from the bedroom.
‘Daddy.’
‘Yes darling,’ he shouted back.
‘Now... Elliot’s had a poo.’
***
Two hours later, Nick fished his mobile phone out of the toilet.
‘Shit, shit…shit.’
He held it at arm’s length, in between his thumb and middle finger, as he walked back down the stairs. He’d been searching for the phone for the past twenty minutes so he could ring his best mate Marcus for some moral support.
‘Thank you Elliot’ he said, through gritted teeth as he passed the living room. Neither twin looked up, too busy placing coloured blocks on one another.
‘Did you find it Daddy?’ Molly asked, glancing up from amongst the dishes on the kitchen table. She’d cleared a space and was drawing.
‘Yes thank you Molly, daddy’s trying to fix it now.’
He made room on the worktop, grabbed some kitchen towel and was about to take it apart when there was a crash and loud commotion from the living room.
‘What’s going on here?’ He asked them as he stood in the doorway. Pot pourri was all over the floor.
‘Boys…boys. What have you been doing?’ He said shaking his head.
The twins were taking no notice, and running around the living room with bricks in their hands.
‘Mummy is going to be ever so cross Daddy.’ Molly said from behind him.
‘I think we need to quieten down.’ Nick said, as he pushed the broken bowl under the table, out of sight.
He was now feeling exhausted; three hours since he’d been in charge. Looking around the room, he spotted some disks sitting neatly by the television.
‘I know …let’s all sit down and watch a DVD.’
The boys began jumping around screaming with delight. Molly didn’t waste any time and picked out a film.
‘This is our favourite,’ she said, showing Nick the brightly coloured cover.
She took it out, placed the disc in the machine and pressed play. He sat down on the sofa and was joined by the twins.
‘Lions, grrrr’ said Oliver, raising his arms and clawing the air. Elliot giggled, which made his sibling louder.
'Grrrr, Grrrr.'
‘Boys... come on now let’s be quiet and watch the film.’
Molly climbed up on to the sofa and tried to snuggle next to him, but Elliot wasn’t willing to give up his space to his sister.
‘No,’ he said.
‘Elliot, please can I sit next to Daddy?’
‘No Mor-wee… my Daddy.’
‘Now, now, you two, don’t start arguing. We can all sit here together.’
The music for the film started, which diverted Molly’s attention and she gave in with a huge sigh and sat down next to her brother. Nick relaxed into the sofa, next to his children and shut his eyes.
***
‘Daddy, Daddy, wake up, Mummy’s on the phone.’
The film was still playing, but apart from Molly, the room was empty. She held the phone out to him.
‘Where are the boys?’ He mouthed to her.
She shrugged her shoulders and carried on watching the colourful animals on the screen. He took the phone.
‘Of course I wasn’t asleep …I was just sitting on the sofa watching a film with the kids…what do you mean, you‘re on your way home? No, there’s no need, we're fine, no, I wasn’t asleep, Debs we’re fine…Debs, Debs….’
The line went dead. He began panicking as he looked at the immediate chaos before him, knowing it wasn’t the only room.
‘Shit.’ He said, through gritted teeth. Worse still, he couldn’t hear the boys, but... he could smell paint.
He walked into the kitchen and stopped.
‘What the fu…’
On the kitchen floor were white paint footprints leading to two giggling boys in the corner. They were covered in white emulsion from an upturned pot of paint, he’d been meaning to put out in the shed. They’d been very artistic on the patio door, the floor and the kitchen units.
‘Oh Jesus…what have you two done?’ He shouted.
Both boys stopped giggling, and began crying. His eyes stayed on the floor. In the middle of the paint lay his mobile phone.
It was at this moment he conceded defeat.
(c) Ragna Brent 2008