Captain Finn's Journal, Day 1622
The battle continues apace. Mother still claims to be an impartial observer who loves both of us equally, but I remain unconvinced. My sister and I must keep fighting for the position of "best-loved twin".
It's quite remarkable, really, that people born a mere four minutes apart can be so different in looks and temperament, four years later. Vieve is unwavering in her tactics; cuddles and kisses and handfuls of weeds. Mother always says "Thank you, sweetheart!" but I think she's not really that fond of having fistfuls of dandelions shoved in her face. It's sickening, really. Vieve just plays nice-nice and gets lots of cuddles. I'm loath to admit it, but she might be winning.
Whenever I try to sit on Mummy's lap, she always says "Did you pee in your undies?! Go change your pants!" and gets cross. I can't do nice-nice. Can't use the toilet, either.
If I can't get points by being nice like Vieve... I'll have to see if I can take some of her points away. More on that tomorrow.
Captain Finn's Journal, Day 1623
I tried out my new tactics today. I'm quite proud of the concept, but I did it wrong. See, I planned to secretly do something naughty, and then blame it on Vieve. Genius, right?
Except that while peeling paint off the toilet wall went even better than I had expected, the great observer caught me in the act. (Seriously, though, you should have seen the wall. I did not expect the paint to just come off in big sheets like that! It was amazing!)
Unfortunately, I was so prepared to blame my sister that "Vieve did it" just came out of my mouth, even though I was caught paint-handed. Mother was not impressed. Said something about "lying gets you in more trouble". I think I'll have to chalk that one up to experience.
Captain Finn's Journal, Day 1624
Mother keeps saying "Practice makes pervert" or something. I forget exactly, but what it means is that it's important to keep trying.
I want to, but she won't let me go in the toilet room on my own again. I thought it would be okay, though. I found out that the paper stuff on the wall in the hallway peels off just as well. I was extra careful this time, and stopped before Mother saw me doing it.
But she still knew it was me! Even though I said "Vieve did it!" Hrm. I must be doing something wrong. Maybe it's my tone of voice. More conviction next time, and less giggling. Yes, that should do it.
Mother rang the landlord today. Afterwards, she cried. I don't know what a "landlord" is, but it must be scary.
Captain Finn's Journal, Day 1625
Landlords aren't scary at all! He was a very nice man who let me watch while he painted the wall and put new paper stuff up on the wall.
Mother was still a bit grumpy at me after he left, so I drew her a picture. What does "Holy crap, not on the bloody floor" mean? I hope she liked it.
She got even grumpier when I peed on the kitchen floor. I think she really hates pee. What if I say that Vieve did the pee? Will try tomorrow.
Captain Finn's Journal, Day 1626
I peed on the floor and told Mother that Vieve did it. She said "It was you! Look at your pants!" Note to self: change pants afterwards.
Captain Finn's Journal, Day 1627
I peed on the floor and changed my pants, and then I told Mother that Vieve did it. She pulled down the waistband of my pants and said "It was you! Look at your undies!" Note to self: change pants AND undies afterwards.
Captain Finn's Journal, Day 1628
Mother is looking very tired. She has had meetings every night this week. And today she will be away all day at band camp! How rude! How come she is spending all day with her tuba instead of with us?
Captain Finn's Journal, Day 1629
Mother had a lovely time at band camp. Now she has to go be a broomsman. I don't know what that is, but it's at a wedding. Maybe she has to do the sweeping. She should be good at that. Just last night she did a really good job of sweeping up paint again. The new paint is even more fun to peel off the toilet wall!
I said "Vieve did it" but she wouldn't even listen. That made me mad. So I found a pencil, opened up her tuba case, and did lots of big scribbles all over her tuba. I even went round and round and round inside it. Then I shut the case.
Captain Finn's Journal, Day 1630
Mother went back to band camp today. I think she found my drawing, because it sounded like her shouting coming out of the phone. Daddy yelled at me, and he didn't listen to "Vieve did it", either.
I don't think I'm very good at making Mother think that Vieve did it. I just want her to like me best.
But... I'm not sure it matters. Because if Mother doesn't believe "Vieve did it", doesn't that mean she knows it was me? And she still gives me bedtime snuggles and kisses and stories, just the same as Vieve.
Maybe she really does love us both just the same, no matter what.
This is a fictionalised account of a very difficult fortnight back in February, 2014. I love my kids dearly, but my WORD can they push my buttons.
Yes, he really did draw on my tuba. Scratched heck out of the lacquer. Yes, I cried. And then yelled. And then cried some more.