I knew I was tempting fate, taking Todzilla and Bubs with me to my Osteopath appointment today. But I’m an eternal optimist, and felt sure they’d behave themselves (plus OH was working late, so I didn’t really have a choice…)

When I arrived the little one was in a good mood, despite having had a rotten cold all week, and bubs was sound asleep. ‘What was I worried about?’ I thought smugly. ‘I’m going to breeze through this.’

Of course the moment I lay down on the treatment table, bubs woke up, her cry a cross between a screaming pterodactyl, and an air raid siren. 

I prayed she’d squawk for a few minutes then settle down – like she usually does. Instead she kept going… and going… and going…

‘You’re going to need a hearing aid after this,’ I joked lamely to my osteopath.

Then I let out one of those really cringey, fake laughs.
‘Oh, it’s not that bad,’ he replied, attempting his own, equally unconvincing, chortle.

Meanwhile, Big Sis popped up by the treatment table, her face just inches from mine. ‘Allo Mummy,’ she yelled, grabbing my nose, and squeezing it.

She ducked out of my eye line, and I could hear her rustling in my shopping bags. She reappeared with one of my sheepskin boots (yes, I wear Uggs. I’m allowed – I’m from NZ, it’s part of our cultural identity, OK?) and a t-shirt I’d just bought from Topshop.

‘Mummy,’ she started. ‘Ooog bloog shmeee schmoo weee?’ No bloody clue what that meant. Then she grabbed my nose again. ‘HONK!’ she yelled.

I heard a thump, and a wail. Now Big Sis was crying. When I twisted around, she was lying face up on the floor. I could tell she hadn’t really hurt herself. ‘Come on sweetheart,’ I tried gallantly. ‘You’re fine, hop up.’

Instead she just lay there, like an upturned turtle, her pitiful sobs adding to the din.

‘Right,’ my osteopath announced, his voice filled with barely disguised relief. ‘We’re done!’

And then, literally as the words were out of his mouth, I heard it… silence. I peered over the edge of the table. The room was carnage – my shopping, boots, and the contents of my handbag strewn everywhere.

Wouldn’t you know it – bubs had finally nodded off in her carry cot, and Big Sis was fast asleep, still lying on the floor. I literally had to wake her up to get her in the pushchair.

I beat a hasty retreat, before either of them had a chance to start up again, apologising profusely as I fled. My back may have been fixed, but my nerves were completely shot. It’s safe to say I won’t be attempting that again in a hurry…


  1. Oh my gosh! I actually laughed out loud reading this. I honestly tried not to but I couldn’t help it! Sorry….

  2. Poor you – I hope you managed to squeeze in some relaxation time once you got home.

  3. Snort, gurgle, splodge, sneeze, choke trying to keep a straight face LOL Seeya soon kiddo in amongst wot might pass for WW3. OK just kidding I’ll help the moving men!!

  4. Ouch. I had a similar experience recently at the GP’s office. I was getting a post-coil checkup. There’s nothing like a two-year old asking the doctor what they are doing when you are exposed from the waist down!

  5. I’m not laughing …. honest … hehe!!

  6. PhotoPuddle: Go on, laugh! I would have, if it had been anyone else…

    Louisa: Relaxation time? Don’t think I’m familiar with that concept… what exactly does it involve?? 🙂

    KiwiLinz: Helping the moving men?? Did I not tell you – you ARE the moving men…

    Domestic Goddesque: But did they also try to honk your nose??? 🙂

    Posh Totty: Really, because I could have sworn I heard a snigger…

  7. Love it! Gave me the smile I really needed right now. Thanks hun!

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