Picture the scene - eldest daughter is watching Superman on DVD (for the first time), younger two fell asleep within a few minutes of the start of the movie, but now the middle child - she of infinite scheming - has woken up, and is bored.
Middle child dissappears.
Eldest continues to be goggle eyed at the antics of Christopher Reeve.
Middle child re-appears, wearing novelty slippers.
“Look Dad - I got [youngest]’s slippers on
“Where did you get them from?” (they are not allowed in the eldest’s room)
“I don’t know” (accompanied by comically guilty shrug)
“Where did you get the slipper’s from?”
“I don’t know” (even more comical shrug)
“I’m going to ask you once more. Where did you get them from?”
“[eldest]’s bedroom…” (looking at feet now)
“You’re not allowed in there are you.”
“No”
I then pulled the slippers off her feet, and put them back in eldest daughter’s room, marched back downstairs and carried on as if nothing had happened.
This kind of thing happens repeatedly through every day. It’s starting to show up that this is the legacy of the children’s time in care - they have very little concept of ownership, or of sharing and fairness. At the youngest’s birthday party, half way through unwrapping a present the middle one snatched the contents of the wrapping paper from her. It’s not the first time.
There seems to be a little heirarchy going on too (and a completely predictable one) - while the eldest is at school, middle girl rules the roost and pushes her younger sibling around. As soon as eldest is on the scene, middle girl claims everything is unfair and seeks attention at every turn possible.
In the middle of all of this, I am rapidly becoming the unreasonable parent - the one who draws the immediate line in the sand of any argument, and does not reason about it. This of course causes the children to seek Mum’s answer on anything if Dad’s isn’t the one they wanted… except of course Mum heard my answer and asks why they have asked her too…
We admire the children’s craftiness, but we also find ourselves shaking our heads from time to time. It’s hard not to laugh at their attempts to bend us to their will - we find ourselves sneaking into the kitchen to share whispered confidences of what we just caught them doing.