Friday Fun, Frolix and Flatpack

Why does everything I buy for my child require a degree in engineering to assemble it? Did I miss the NCT session where they advised having a ready-charged electric screwdriver to hand at all times and learning how to read instructions in 14 different languages?

Perhaps the people who manufacture baby goods think that new mothers secretly have hours of spare time every day along with a secret desire to start a new career in construction… Just so we’re clear – I’ve been rocking my child back and forth non-stop for nearly four hours today and haven’t had a pee since Tuesday. So to be blunt; growing an additional set of opposable thumbs and a third arm with which to construct the high chair which arrived today in 35 separate pieces and cost me £350 is not high on my priority list.

 I was not aware that the travel cot I purchased last week would be made out of Meccano and come with an instruction manual which rivalled the Argos catalogue.

I was equally unaware that constructing a ‘Jumperoo’ would be like completing a course in kiddy-scaffolding. And that it would take up an area of over three square metres in my living room therefore technically requiring planning permission.

Don’t even get me started on the buggy. It took me three weeks to work out how to attach the hood; previous to then the entire thing just fell over daughter’s face every time we cornered. It was only during a recent outing where my husband accidentally ran the wheel into the curb that we realised for the past 6 months we’d had the wheels on back to front…

It also took us both several weeks to get over the trauma caused by assembling the cot outside only to find that the door to the nursery wasn’t wide enough to fit it through. I had to drink a lot of gin to block out the language that ensued from the re-reconstruction of the nursery furniture…

To finish off, I’ve now purchased a new car seat which comes with a tiny magic goblin who appears after I chant his name three times, uses a series of rainbows to assemble and attach the seat safely to my vehicle, whistles a tune which instantly makes my child fall asleep for the length of any journey, hands me a winning lottery ticket and stops childbirth from hurting next time. Seems fair.


Leave a Reply

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.