Higher than a 5 ………………....... a 4!

6.30pm in our house means upstairs for bath time. Joseph and Annabel are now sharing a bath which is usually lots of fun and something they enjoy. M and I still go our separate ways afterwards; she to get Annabel ready and me to get Joseph ready.

Joseph then gives me a choice of what he wants to do afterwards.

1. Read stories

2. The ‘pillow game’

3. Hide and seek or

4. Play a board game

For your information, the pillow game consists of him running away from me, along our landing and me trying to get him with one or both of his bedroom cushions, usually on the back, causing him to fall over in a heap, laughing hysterically.

(It IS very funny).

Anyway, last night he opted for a board game so we chose our coloured counters and threw the dice.

To cut a long story short, I won by two spaces.

His face screws up in an angry frown, he growls at me and informs me that he “wanted to win”.

And so I find myself having the “it’s not the winning, it’s the taking part” conversation with him.

Many people say that this is rubbish and to NOT want to win is taking a “losers” attitude.

I disagree.

Yes, I also would like to win, but if I personally took this attitude over the past couple of decades I would have been one very unhappy bunny; I’ve never really won or excelled at anything.

In the words of the great Billy Connolly, I’m not saying, “love me, love me, I’m thick”, it’s just that I was not (and am not), all that competitive.

I seem to remember reading a newspaper article by David Beckham’s dad, saying how he never congratulated his son for “doing ok”. He constantly pushed him to do better, to never settle for second best.

You could argue that it has paid off; that Beckham Junior has truly “made it”, rich beyond his dreams, world wide recognition, palatial homes around the globe and so on.

But I’m made of different stuff from Beckham Senior. I physically couldn’t be disappointed at Poops or Missy coming second in an egg and spoon race. When you’re up against 10 others and you romp home in second place, well that’s a result in my book.

Or 3rd place for that matter.

Anyway, we played another round of the game we had just played.

And Joseph won. Easily.

He then promptly punched the air and shouted, “yessss”.

Then I threw a hissy fit.

Dammit, I HATE losing!