Why I popped a poo valve this week.

When you are a blogger,  sometimes you get sent items for “editorial consideration.” which I interpret as “Free Shit.” And I will take that as is can sometimes make up for the totally appalling wage a blogger gets paid,  if anything at all. 

I am selective in what I choose to accept. Mainly because our house is tiny,  I detest clutter and crap. When something comes into the house,  something must leave it.  Apart from my shoe collection. That bitch is way out of control. Also I am not a fan of talking about totally mundane products out of context on this blog.  It is boring to write,  so I cannot imagine it would be exciting to read.

Anyway,  back to bursting a poo valve.  That is a saying that has been in our family for when you are so angry you feel something snap inside.  And that happened to me at 7.10am on Wednesday Morning. We had been sent from Hot Wheels,  their latest model set called Wall Tracks which my son Harry had been horning over it for a few weeks now.  It arrived and we had a look at the box and had a chat about it.  I put it up in a cupboard. Something was troubling me.

My kids have everything they want and need. They do not need new stuff just because they want it. Life does not work that way. So I decided to donate this generous set (which has been featured in my Christmas Gift Guide…) to the local Wishing Tree for underprivileged children.

And not in a Look at me, I am so righteous and good that I am going to tell everyone who reads my blog I am purer than the driven snow….. type of confessional because you would not believe a bar of it for more than a Milli-second as it is simply so untrue.

But because we just did not need more “stuff.”

The next morning I came out of my room,  surveyed the scene and popped a poo valve. Strewn across the lounge room floor was the contents of those boxes.  The boxes had been ripped open and the perpetrator,  sensing that the whole thing looked too hard to put together, had left it.

I literally felt my temperature lift and the blood rush through my veins as I stared at the sight in disbelief.

It has taken me a few days to recover from the anger.  There has been many a talk about this and a clear punishment outlined. I did not explode like I wanted to. I did the creepily calm “I have never been more disappointed in you. Go to your room while I have a think about what to do next.” Which is far more effective if you ask me.

I think my poo valve is repairing itself. But I still get really irritated when I think about it. I do not want kids who have a sense of entitlement or be spoilt little assholes.. And I know deep down that is not who he is.

But fuck I was angry.

Do you encourage heaps of “stuff?” Did I over-react?
Have you ever popped a poo valve?