I have decided to write an entirely fictional, in no way based in reality, bedtime story for my children, I can’t think why….
There were once two handsome young princes, let’s call them Jasper and Leo, who lived in a faraway land where bears roamed the lush mountainside and strangers talked to each other in the streets. Every night the two boys went straight to bed when their mummy, the Queen (who incidentally was stunningly beautiful, an intoxicating mix of Natalie Portman and Sienna Miller), asked them to. Even when Leo thought he had a bee in his nose or super powers in his bottom he just snuggled down and went straight to sleep. His elder brother Jasper never suddenly needed a drink or a trip to the loo or to practice some yoga moves and head-over-heels. Issues such as, ‘why do girls like Tinkerbell?’ ‘when will I be old?’ and ‘what shall we have for lunch tomorrow?’ were always discussed calmly, long before bedtime.
Jasper and Leo’s adoring mummy never had to utter such phrases as, “will you both just take your swimming goggles off and go to sleep” “if it looks like poo and smells like poo it probably is poo” or “please, I’ve asked you enough times now, stop licking the mirror”. If the young princes awoke in the night they didn’t leap on each other, turn all the lights on or shout in each others faces. They spoke softly to one another until they drifted back to dreamland letting their delightful mummy sleep undisturbed until morning, when they gently serenaded her with nursery rhymes and never ever stripped totally naked stood at the top of the stairs singing “I’m naked, I’m naked” whilst Jasper banged a xylophone and Leo danced a jig.
Now, dear children, there is a reason for this. One day Jasper and Leo had been out skipping hand in hand with their darling mummy, whose tinkling laughter was filling the air with joy, when they stumbled across a wild eyed old hag sitting and rocking by the side of the road. She was dressed in rags, slurping down cup after cup of sticky black coffee so strong the smell alone made their eyes water, snarling and gnashing her teeth at any child that passed her way. The boys were terrified and clung to their mother’s chic skirt (from Victoria Beckham’s A/W 2013 collection).
“That, my dears,” she said, cradling her cherubic sons close “is what happens to a mummy whose children don’t let her get enough sleep. One day it might happen to me.”
The boys were so shocked they vowed to always behave at bedtime for fear their wonderful mother would turn into a terrifying ogre. From that day forth their lovely mummy was always calm, serene, well rested and had plenty of energy to run the kingdom, think up fun games and catch up with Breaking Bad on Netflix.