Saturday, July 26, 2008
This morning DH flew out to Sydney for a boys sporting weekend (Bledisloe Cup, some rugby league game tomorrow and the netball final on Monday night). Rather him than me.
That leaves me home with the kids and a report to write for work. Mr 8 is obsessed with things army. So tonight I offer to take him on in an army battle with his painted models. This is usually a Daddy game. And Daddy obviously has more patience than me. It was a full 45 minutes before I was allowed to move a soldier one inch. Prior to that every piece of artillery, every Panzer tank, every papatrooper, every unit and the terrain was described in detail. More than once. And I was warned not to take on General Rommel. When I finally decided that my Kings Tiger tank ("the second strongest tank in World War II") would take out some large enemy grouping (which country they were representing totally evades me)I was informed that I could not destroy that many people. "It would destroy morale in the field and their campaign would falter."
My morale destroyed I decided it was time to surrender to the greater wisdom of an eight year old.