We try before mealtimes to make sure the children’s cutlery is set ready on the table. We choose carefully – a matching set each, not the spoon with the weird elephant on, Luna has Luna’s and Willow has Willow’s. If we’re lucky, the children sit down and use them. If we’re lucky.
Woe betide the mummy who puts spoonable food on the table before spoons. Or who mentions spoonable food before the spoons are in place.
A swift, wild struggle to the cutlery drawer: these creatures might be mistaken by their haste and violent competition for ravenous wolves. But no, it’s two young children, fiercely spoon-desperate, battling to be first to make their selection. Four little hands of dubious cleanness scrabble and rattle though the cutlery tray.
And then they’re back at the table, to eat their porridge or soup or stewed apple. Luna with a plastic medicine spoon and Willow with a quarter-teaspoon measuring spoon.
We endure fifteen minutes of the children eating minute quantities with impractical spoons. The food is now cold.
“Mummy, this spoon is unsuitable!”
“Yes, Luna, yes, it is.”
Back to the cutlery drawer. And repeat…
Two mummies and too many spoons.