I don’t know what it is about bath-time. Every night, no matter what time it is or how tired Isaac and Evie are, this miraculous transformation occurs as soon as their dripping feet hit the bathmat. In the short space of time it takes for me to throw the towel around their shoulders, they become these naked whirling dervishes who shimmy around shrieking at the tops of their voices.
Usually this ends with them disappearing underneath one of the duvets, naked rear-ends whisked out of sight. Oblivious to my orders to get out and get dressed, a quivering, giggling mass under the bedclothes, I realise I have to join their little game or be thoroughly beaten. So I sigh, assume a ferocious growl and pounce….
Eventually they are all sitting sweetly, pyjamas on, while Papa reads them bedtime stories, with no trace of the energetic performances only a few minutes previously. It never fails to amaze me how quickly they can transition from one state of being to the next. Although their antics are very funny and entertaining at times, on the whole it is thoroughly exhausting!
They remind me a little of the minions in one of our favourite animated movies, Despicable Me. Those cute little yellow guys who speak in gibberish and laugh at silly things like gurgling water fountains and photocopied bottoms. They encapsulate the innocence and capriciousness of childhood to a ‘T’. The second film, however, which came out just recently, showcases a type of super-minion who has been transformed by an evil superhero into a rabid, purple, and indestructible monster who quivers uncontrollably and says, “Bah!” I fear my offspring are more reflective of this latter stage of minion evolution than the former.
This week I felt like I, too, have assumed some of the “purple-rabid-minion”-esque qualities. Although mine has not been induced by some powerful concoction being injected to me, but rather from the simple fact that I have not allowed myself to drink tea or coffee. Our church has gone on a fast this week, in order to “consecrate” ourselves to God for 2014. I thought I was being clever by fasting tea and coffee, instead of food. It has not been pretty.
I don’t often do well on fasts. Generally it seems that the inner beast is revealed, as I am either extremely grumpy from being hungry or craving something, or having a huge headache from my body detoxing. Like this week, by the end of day one I was so desperate for a cup of tea that I was shoving chocolate down my throat and lying down under a blanket in an attempt to placate my deprived body. Woe-betide the poor person who wanted to wake me for something and got hissed at. There is something wrong with this picture, I thought to myself, surely the point of a fast is not to deprive yourself of one thing so that you can comfort yourself with another thing? Surely it is to remind oneself that “man cannot live by bread [or tea] alone”?
Well. Point proven. I am utterly useless without tea, and, for that matter, without God. Thankfully I have taken most of today to redeem my horrid behaviour this week, and it has been much better. Hopefully all purple minions have been banished from the house…. At least until after bath tonight.