The Boy Who Cried Wolf

I’ve mentioned before that Monkey is a clever one. He can hold a pretty comprehensive conversation at only 2 years and two months old and we have constantly been astounded by how quickly he picks things up.

However, that intelligence is turning around to bite us in the bum.

Monkey has worked out that the word ‘help’ elicits a very quick response from either parent and so he has began to use the word rather frequently.
The other morning I was woken from quite a deep sleep at 5.25am to cries of ‘help me, help me I’m stuck’. My motherly protective instinct kicked in and quick as a flash I was up and down the hall to see what on earth was wrong. I ran in only to find him stood up – not stuck at all – greeting me with a cheery ‘hello Mummy’.

This could have been a one off but later that morning I had left him downstairs whilst I quickly popped upstairs to grab something or other. I was gone for no more than 30 seconds when he started yelling ‘help me, help me I’m stuck’. Now, I had heard this only a few hours ago but there are quite a few places he could get stuck in our lounge so I quickly legged it down the stairs only to find him sat cross legged on the sofa, reading his Peppa Pig Magazine shouting ‘help me, help me I’m stuck’.
Asking him what was going on he turned to me and said 'can I have a drink please.’

I have tried to explain to him the story of the boy who cried wolf but, despite his vast intelligence, he doesn’t get it. Or more likely he’s pretending not to get it so he can keep this game up for a while longer.

He’s a wise one.