Get amongst 'em

A bit of a tip if the kids are giving you jip this Chrimbo.

I’ve been having massive drama, trying to get my 2 year old to eat. She’s ultra picky and she was copping a deaf ‘un to everything I tried.
“You’ll stay there till bedtime, unless you eat it.”
I was sure that would work, but she just gave me a look that said,
‘Yeah, course I will, you knob,’ and just sat there with her arms crossed.
I was racking my brains the other day, thinking, ‘C’mon Convoy, there has to be an incident in your military experience that has prepared you for this moment.’ And then it popped into my fat napper like a bolt of lightning.
I called all three of them together yesterday morning, just before breakfast and made the speech. My two lads listened attentively as I outlined the problem.
“Right, bambinos, listen in. Now, you’re a good bunch generally, but one of you is letting the side down.”(pause for a comedy hard man stare at the girl.) The way this family works is that, if one gets punished, everyone gets punished. Now, I don’t want to do this but I can’t see any other way of solving it. If the person who’s not pulling their weight, doesn’t get their sh-it sorted in the next day or two, then Christmas isn’t coming to south Manchester.”
I waited for the gravity of the situation to sink in for the two lads, as number three moved shiftily from foot to foot, looking like she’d got caught with her hand in the till.
“Before you start crying and moaning lads, the solution to the problem is in your hands. You’ve got till tomorrow to sort it.”
Even as I walked away, I could see the three year old chucking her the worlds filthiest look and the five year old nodding slowly as he formulated his plan.

Now I don’t know exactly what went on, or who said what, but at teatime tonight, things had changed. I put something in front of her that she normally turns her nose up at. What happened? She ate faster than Jo Brand. She’d have left Fern Britton for dead in a scoff-necking race. All the while, the lads were sat either side of her, smiling benignly.

Any backsliding and she’ll be on the front gate for New Year.
I just "phone" Santa and tell the fat fcuker not to bother coming to our gaff, that usualy has the desired effect 8)
Putting all of the presents currently set out into a large bag, then heading outside to the nearest busy motorway to line all the gifts up in a row usually works pretty good, too.
Rincewind said:
seems like a lot of effort bubble....Mighty blightys plan seems simpler.

That is true. Getting the large bag out (having been pre-warned what it's for) and moving in the direction of the pile is usually sufficient.

And there's no need to feel like an idiot talking into a phone on a dead connection.

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