25th March 2017  






Hi Ewan here. This week I am mainly blogging about the Naughty Step.

I know a lot about the Naughty Step. It’s my life. I live for the Naughty Step. The Naughty Step is my purpose in life. It is what I do.

That is not unusual. Most children and people have special seats they sit on. The Queen sits on her throne. She sits on it all day saying “Fetch me a cup of tea.” “I’ve left my magazine in the loo will you fetch it for me.” “Don’t do that.” Where’s Philip when you need him.” Just like Mamma. She never says please because she is the Queen and just orders people around, just like Mamma.

Other special chairs people sit on are the Mastermind chair in TVs quiz show. That’s like a Naughty Step because you have to sit on the chair and you are asked lots of awkward questions, just like on the Naughty Step. Then there is the sofa people sit on watching TV in the Gogglebox TV programme.

The naughty step is at the very bottom of our stairs. Just above it is a baby gates. That is made up of a series of metal bars, which is all psychological stuff to make you feel you are in prison.

Mum or Dad or both make me go and sit on the Naughty Step when they are having a bad day.

I’ll give you an example.

When I’ve finished my tea, if on the very odd occasion I do not eat it up, I throw it on the floor. How else do you indicate that you don’t want it when you are not quite old enough to put all the words together?

But Mum or Dad or both seem to take exception to me doing that.

“That is naughty.” They say, “Pick it up, or you’ll go on the Naughty Step.”

There are a few issues I have here. Firstly if I pick it up (within 5 seconds) they’ll make me eat it. The whole point of throwing it on the floor is I don’t want it. Secondly, it’s their job to pick it up. What other purpose do they have in life than to look after me? Thirdly I quite like the Naughty Step.

So say if it’s Dad. He picks me up.

He looks into my eyes (scary) and says “That is very naughty.”

He plonks me on the Naughty Step and adds: “Stay there and think about what you have done and then say sorry to Mummy and Daddy.”

At this point I have to scream in a drama queen sort of way as if it is the end of the world.

There are many reasons for this. Firstly I want to be an actor when I grow up. A blockbuster movie star. There have been 12 actors that have played James Bond, with 26 movies in 54 years from 12 novels and 2 collections of short stories by writer Ian Fleming. I will probably end up being James Bond No.15. So the drama is good training. Although probably a little over dramatic for Bond. But saying, “I’m shaken but not stirred” as you are being put on the Naughty Step is not particularly fitting.

It also makes it look as if you are distraught at being put on the Naughty Step. You and I both know that is not true but it does my parent’s self esteem good to make them feel they are being good solid responsible parents, with first class parenting skills.

So they leave me five minutes to sit by myself and think about what I’ve done. I know what I’ve done: thrown my tea on the floor because I’m done. So no further thought needed there, then.

This is where the good bit starts. I now have five whole minutes to chill out with my own thoughts. Fantastic. No one watches over me, just me and my thoughts. I am able to plan so much more mischief as I sit pondering.

Often I am put on the Naughty Step a thousand times in one morning. I am put on, I then dream up my next mischievous act. I come off, I perform my newly thought out plan. I am put back on. Think of something else, come off, put it into action and go back on etc., etc.

You can see importance of the Naughty Step for stimulating young minds.

Sometimes I find the Naughty Step so relaxing as I take time out thinking my own beautiful thoughts. Sometimes I imagine I am Buzz Lightyear or Woody from Toy Story sitting on the Naughty Step. I bet they had to lots.

Sometimes, but not very often Brother Rory has to go on it. He does not find the Naughty Step a magical place like I do, so I go and sit with him to keep him company. That really winds Mum and Dad up. I should not be there because it is not what they want. I detracts from correcting Rory’s behaviour. But what can they do? Put me on the Naughty Step for going on the Naughty Step? They tend to end up fighting back laughter which destroys the whole Naughty Step ethos any way.

There are many things I do not understand about the Naughty Step. Why is it in our house? It is obviously a public facility all part of the penal system. Do the council pay Mum and Dad a rental for the step?

Another question I have: Why are no other kids in our locality put on the Naughty Step?

Am I the only local kid and sometimes Brother Rory that is brave enough to stick our necks out to be sentenced to the Naughty Step?

The only other person threatened with the Naughty Step as much as me is Grandad. But Mamma says he gets it from me, I set a bad example.

Mum is shouting again.

“Ewan, where have you put my telephone?”

Oh well, I suppose its inevitable. Excuse me I just need to go and sit on the Naughty Step. If I just go and sit on the Naughty Step before Mum or Dad get to me it takes away any satisfaction they get out of putting me on it.

Bye, Bye.


PS Grown ups language can take alot of understanding. Why do they call the Naughty Step the Naughty Step. Hearing someone say that makes you think the step has been ‘naughty’. “The naughty step made you fall down.” But that’s where you’d be wrong. The “Naughty Step” is so called because I an ‘alledgedle’ naughty boy is made to sit on it. I will never understand grown ups.


Bye, Bye.


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