Zach AttackDistressed Housewife / January 4, 2013
(Cue music andÂ a deep, dramatic male voice-over):
It’s just an ordinary day in an ordinary town.Â A day like any other…that is, untilÂ a toddler awakes from his peaceful slumber.Â He snuggles,Â he looksÂ angelic, like butter wouldn’t melt in his cupid’s bow mouth,Â like mischief couldn’t possibly sparkle in hisÂ large, dewy, grey-blue eyes.
The adults around him are utterly taken in by this facade, blissfully unaware that theyÂ are playing right into his chubby little hands.
He isÂ waging a fierce war on his parents at a time when he knows they are most vulnerable:Â January, when they have given upÂ alcohol for a month.
He begins his charm offensive: he giggles, he kisses everybody, he says, ‘ThashÂ niiish!’ andÂ those around himÂ are fooled by it, so much so that they allow their attention to wander for a moment.Â It is their first and biggest mistake and they will pay dearly for it.
He waits patiently and innocently until they look away, distracted by a noise, the television, another child…they look back but they are too late.Â He has already started to wreak havoc of unbelievable proportions.
He leaves carnage and broken LegoÂ in his wake andÂ grown men and womenÂ sobbing uncontrollably, left too weak to unfurl themselves from the foetal position that is their natural defence mechanism.
He waits until a crucial moment in his brothers’ Skylanders’ game, turns offÂ the plug at the switch…and watches with anÂ unrepentant smile as they try to recover their lost positions and broken hearts.
He throws rooms into complete darkness andÂ people are leftÂ to fend for themselves whilst he turns his attention elsewhere.Â They stumble around blindly,Â groping their wayÂ around protruding pieces of furniture, in constant fear of breaking bones and stubbing toes…and he does it only by the swift clambering on a table andÂ theÂ deftÂ flick of a switch.
He knows which buttons to press…especially those to start a new cycle on the empty washing machine; he can make a weapon with which to batter his brothers out of any toy or household item; he conceals keys and phones in super-secret hidey holes and avoids eye contact when questioned about their whereabouts.
He is obsessed by doors.Â He opens them.Â He closes them.Â He opens them again.Â He closes them again.Â Over and over and over he repeats the process,Â until, on bended knee, his parents plead,Â ‘PLEASE STOP PLAYING WITH THE DOORS!’
He may pause for a moment as though to consider the request BUT BE WARNED: HE WILL NEVER STOP.Â NOT UNTIL HELL FREEZES OVER (or he turns three).Â He enjoys the power of being cute, mobile and nimble-fingered too much to ever relent.
The boyÂ is good.Â The best at what he does.Â He has perfect selective hearing, he can find the toy that makes the most irritating noise imaginable and leaveÂ it turned up at full volume where only he can find it.Â He can even poo on demand if the situation requires it.
He’s a pro.Â He’s anÂ award-winning screamer.Â And he’s only two years old.
ZACH ATTACK: COMING SOON TO A TODDLER GROUP NEAR YOU. 🙂