Letter to my Children.

As neither of you can read [I know this, as I am the poor bugger who has to read "Baby says 'Peek-a-Boo'" to you both over 30 times a day] and neither of you has access to the Internet [despite having your own joint Twitter account] there really is no purpose for me to write to you. But I am going to, anyway.

Today was quite possibly one of the worst days of my life. I blame you, Master S. [Miss E, even though you cannot say much other than "Bub", I will not hold you directly responsible, but you didn't help the situation any].

I just want to re-hash our day. [In all honesty, it's traumatizing, I am only re-hashing it, so that other readers can understand why I stood in my hallway nearly shredding my head bald, screeching in an irrational crazy person voice: "PLEASE KID, YOU ARE SENDING ME LOOPY"].

It started like any other. Except for some bizarre reason, Master S, you decided to wake me with no nappy on, therefore I was greeted by a bare butt to the face.

This is not why my day was the worst day of my life.

It's what happened after you both woke me. After I bathed the two of you. After your breakfast. During the remainder of the 200 degree heat day. It was watching Larry the Shithead Lawnmower on DVD. All. Day. Long.

Miss E. glued to Larry the Nightmare Lawnmower

I never minded Larry.
It was lovely to have half an hour of everyday in complete and utter silence, while you, my first born, were glue-eyed to the television.
It was lovely to see you develop an interest in something [something that wasn't "In the Night Garden" or "Yo Gabba Gabba"].
It was lovely... until Nana bought you those God-forsaken DVD's.
Now... now... I just want to rip Larry apart and toss him in a dump heap.

The constant demands of "La" in the morning, followed by an incredible tantrum if I refuse, followed by me giving in, followed by repeats of the same episodes [including "Larry's SuperDuper SuperCharger"] are driving me insane. Insane enough to want to smash the DVD into a million pieces as you both watch in horror. Okay, that's a little harsh & cruel sounding, and I wouldn't actually do it, but I am honestly sick of Larry. I am even DREAMING about Larry.

The sound of Jay Laga'aia's voice used to be enough to give me an 'ear'gasm. Now, I cringe just hearing his voice. Knowing that aside from my own, it's the only person I will hear speaking... all day long.

So leads me to today.
I am sick of Larry.
I am sick of watching it.
I am sick of the music.
I am sick of Rosie as she "giggles with glee".
She creeps me out.
She has a man's voice and a female's laugh?
It's not natural.

I HATE LARRY THE LAWNMOWER.

I HATE HIM, HATE HIM, HATE, HATE, HATE, HATE HIM.!
I hate that half the time, you aren't even watching the DVD, but for some reason, it's still on, and neither of you will let me turn it off.!?

All I want, if you could be so kind, is half an hour of "Mummy telly time". 
Even watching Judge Judy in the afternoon would be enough for me to maintain some mental stability. I will even read "Baby says 'Peek-a-Boo'" 60 times a day, if that's what you want.!?
Please, could you both just consider my offer, so we don't have another day like today?

Love always,
Your slightly insane, Larry-hating, Mummy xo