At long last, after much procrastinating, fiddling about and delaying of the inevitable by the children, I had finally got them into bed. I was now peacefully flopping in front of the television with a bar of chocolate from my secret stash and a cup of tea. I flicked idly through the channels trying to decide whether to watch the period drama that all the other mums were raving about, or to treat myself to something altogether more trashy and fun.
I had just settled on the drama, feeling that I should at least be able to express some opinion, when asked in the playground, as to which male star I thought had the ‘fwwwaaar’ factor, when I heard Curly Girly get out of bed. I ignored her. Da Hubsta, who was playing a computer game, pulled his headphones down a little tighter and focused harder on his screen. This was ‘our’ time and we weren’t about to surrender it lightly.
I listened tensely to Curly Girly tiptoe to the bathroom and, then, to my relief, back to bed. I could relax, I was not going to have to go up there. Three minutes later Curly Girly got up again. This time I heard her creap along the landing to Bubba’s room where he was sleeping peacefully.
“What’s she doing?” I whispered to Da Hubsta, he shrugged distractedly and then tipped his head back.
“Go to bed,” he shouted half heartedly in the general direction of the ceiling.
Two voices replied in unison,
“We are in bed.”
Noisy Boysie sounded as if he was in his room tucked up as he was meant to be. Curly Girly’s answer came through loud and clear on the baby monitor. What on earth was she up to?
Da Hubsta resumed his gaming. I sighed, paused the program, put my chocolate down and went to put her back to bed.
The stairs creaked as I put my foot on the first step. Curly Girly heard me coming, belted along the landing at breakneck speed and leapt back into bed with a frame breaking, thunk. Hurrah, I was free to return to choccie scoffling and swooning in peace.
“Stay in bed now,” I called up the stairs. I returned happily to lolling on the sofa and unpaused the T.V.
Once more I heard the pitter patter of Curly Girly’s feet. She pittered down the landing and pattered into our room. I listened to the near, but not quite totally, silent sound of our daughter taking a little bit of some lotion or potion from my dresser and then sneak back to bed.
After about ten minutes I thought the children were all asleep. I was stretched out, half dozing, and luxuriating in a few minutes of well earned rest when there was a blood curdling scream from Noisy Boysie, a proper, all out, full scale, genuine I’m dying right now, screaming wail.
“MUMMY, MUMMY, MUMMY, HEEEEELLLLLPPPP” he yelled franticly.
“ITS CHASING ME, ITS TRYING TO BITE ME, AHHHHHHHHHH MUMMMYYY, AHHHHHHH DAADDDDYYYY HEEELLLLP”
I have never run so fast in all my life. My tea knocked over in my haste. Da Hubsta and I jostled together as we raced upstairs to rescue him. I was in a proper parent panic. Whatever had happened to our beautiful son? Whatever was scaring him so much?
His bedroom door slammed. He was screaming hysterically on the other side and he was pulling it to keep it tightly closed.
“What’s the matter?” I asked.
“Open the door,” Da Hubsta demanded
“NOOOOOO NOOOO IT’LL BITE ME AGAIN,” wailed Noisy Boysie.
“MUMMY! MUMMY! IT’S ON THE LANDING, ITS GOING TO BITE YOU. RUN MUMMY, RUN,” Noisy Boysie urgently called through the door.
“What kind of animal is it? ” Da Hubsta asked glancing around nervously.
“I DON’T KNOW. ITS BIG, ITS GOT BROWN FUR AND HUGE BITEY TEETH, IT RUNS VERY FAST,” Noisy Boysie gulped in a distraught voice.
I looked around. There was nothing there. Maybe the cat had brought a wild angry rat or squirrel in and it had sprinted off behind a piece of furniture to plan its next attack. Da Hubsta and I started searching. Nothing. There was not a trace of a ferocious beast on the landing.
OMG! I had a horrific thought, maybe it was hiding in Bubba’s room, waiting to jump up and bite him too. I sprinted in there, turned the light on, and started pulling furniture away from the walls urgently searching for the savage squirrel or rabid rat. Still no sign of it. Bubba woke up and started crying. I picked him up, there was no way I was going to leave him alone with a frenzied runaway rodent.
We made our way back to the landing. Da Hubsta was using all his powers of persuasion to get Noisy Boysie out of his room so we could check that the brute wasn’t shut in with him and, more urgently, so I could see how badly he had been bitten and get him to the hospital quickly.
“ITS NOT IN HERE DADDY, ITS OUT THERE, RUNNING AROUND, BE CAREFUL DADDY, IT’LL HURT YOU DADDY,” Noisy Boysie panicked through the door.
“We’ve got to get him out,” Da Hubsta said, “the longer we leave the bite, the worse it could be.” So Da Hubsta, forced the door open a tiny bit. Poor Noisy Boysie was petrified, he screamed again,
“AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH THERE IT IS, THERE IT IS, RUUUUUNNNN MUMMY, RUUUUUUNN DADDY” we looked around again but still could not see the ghastly, hideous beast.
“Where is it?” I asked urgently, pulling a wailing Bubba up a bit higher in case I had missed a hiding spot for the creature.
“RIGHT THERE” shrieked Noisy Boysie pointing for only a moment before slamming his door shut again.
We looked up to where he had pointed and saw the awful, huge, hairy, vicious, fearsome, boy chasing, man eating, truly petrifying…… little brown moth.
It took me nearly an hour to get Noisy Boysie and Bubba settled again. Curly Girly slept through it all.
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