I had always thought I wanted children at some point. Sure, parents harp on at how stressful it is, but my thought was always “if it was really that difficult, there wouldn’t be so many multi-children families”. My blase attitude was given quite the rude awakening this week…
My sister gave birth to her second child just before lockdown and his since been stuck indoors with a newborn and a three year old. As restrictions have now begun to ease, I thought I would offer to take my three year old nephew Logan (not his real name) out for the day to give my sister and her partner some rest from a very active toddler. Although I am 26, I am the youngest in the family so my sisters still think of me as the boozy 16 year old getting drunk on WKD in a field with her friends, so I’ve never been allowed to look after my nephew on my own before. Therefore, I knew when I offered, my sister would be hesitant, but before I could finish my sentence my brother-in-law shouted “YES”. So Logan was mine for the day.
He’s been tantruming quite a bit of late, so I wanted to maintain the positivity throughout our day together. He loves Percy Pigs so the M&S Foodhall was our first stop. We had a bit of an in joke, that for the rest of the day I would call him Percy Pig and he would call me Peppa Pig (I know we were traversing brands, but I wasn’t going to argue the toss with a child that could erupt at any second).
My nephew loves having his feet measured on the machines they have at a very popular shoe shop, so that was our next stop. This doubled up as an opportunity for me to buy the most expensive shoes I could find him, to prove to my family that I am in fact a very responsible aunty. However, once we’d had our fun on the foot measurer, Logan – or should I say, Percy – decided he didn’t want to put his shoes back on. We had a frank discussion, where I told him that shoe wearing was not up for debate, but he kicked me in the face and made a run for it.
My nose felt very burny for a second, so I was a bit weary as I got to my feet. In the split second that I’d had my eyes closed, he had gone. I ran out of the shop into the shopping centre, but he was nowhere to be seen. My heart stopped as I started screaming “LOGAN LOGAN!”
Passers by were staring which I thought was down to the fact that I was shouting, but a passer-by pointed out that I had blood dripping down my face which must have been from the face kick. I ran into every shop screaming Logan but to no avail. I’m watching my life crash down around me, as not only have I lost my nephew, seemingly forever, but I begin envisaging the conversation I’m going to have to have with my family to explain that Logan is gone.
As I continue to scream, an announcement comes over the tannoy asking for a “Mrs Peppa Pig” to come to the information desk as soon as possible. I run flat out to the info desk shouting ‘I’m Peppa Pig, I’m Peppa Pig’, only to be met by a very officious woman scowling at me, demanding to see some ID to prove that I am, in fact, Mrs Pig.
I stare at her in disbelief, to which she responds – with not a trace of irony in her voice – “I’m sorry Madam, but I’m going to need to see some ID before I reunite you with Percy”.
I yell, blood now cascading on my chin and chest, “I’m not called Peppa f*****g Pig, am I!” at which point I’m threatened with removal from the shopping centre for abuse of a staff member. Eventually, after speaking with this woman’s manager, I get my nephew back who is as smug as that little b*tch Peppa Pig herself.
When I got Logan home, he burst into the house telling his mum and dad he’d had the best day ever. I am still the favourite aunty, but any desire I ever had to have children has evaporated completely.