Our latest strategy for twin management is the divide and conquer approach. In an effort to keep the neighbours happy, we’ve started splitting up and heading out. One of us takes the ‘easy’ twin and Mr 4, the other takes trouble out somewhere where he can raise the roof and not the dead. I really should stop calling him trouble, he’s not really, he’s cheeky, cute, smiley and freakin loud. We bought a new car (these two stories are related I promise). A big, 8 seater van with automatically opening doors (I’m in heaven). The kids cannot reach each other anymore. The twins are in the back row which means, a good meter and a half further away form my ears when I’m driving. Bliss. The only catch is, it’s too tall for our weirdly low garage door.
So, big storm rolls into town this afternoon. BOM says large hailstones are likely. So I decide to jump in the car and go for a drive to the local shopping centre and park underneath to wait it out. I’ll take the easy one I say. Of course, Mr 4 wants to come too. It’s 4:30, leading into toxic hour, nobody’s had dinner, what can possibly go wrong with this plan? We drive around for a while and the storm doesn’t come. A little rain begins, so I decide to head for cover. We sat there for no more than ten minutes. The kids start getting antsy so I decide to risk it and head out. Car won’t start. Who the hell knew that you can flatten your battery in less than ten minutes! So I am calling RACQ in the middle of a storm, when, generally, they are all sitting around with nothing much to do of course. So now it’s 5:30, well and truly toxic hour, two hungry, cranky, hot kids in the car and my knight in a flashing yellow car is 45 minutes away.
After letting fly to my husband on the phone, here is a quote from his text message that followed my angsty call: “your attitude will guide theirs”. Now, this might sound like the kind of thing that might trigger a marital blue of mammoth proportions, but dammit, he was right. And for goodness sake, since when was he full of such concise parental zen? I pulled myself together, put the kids in a trolley and next thing you know we’re tearing around the car park in a giggle fit. Knight turns up, car starts, crisis averted. With a smile. I wonder if I could handle all crises like that?