I had bought a bottle of Ribena for our friends' three-year-old daughter to enjoy whilst they were staying this weekend. It turns out that she prefers fruitshoots, but even if she hadn't I think she would have been hard pressed to drink an entire bottle of Ribena in three days. I didn't mind. I like Ribena and her disinterest in the blackcurrenty cordial was my gain.
This afternoon we were all sitting in the kitchen chatting and I saw the Ribena bottle and thought "Mmmm, I wouldn't mind a pint of Ribena right now," and made myself a big glass of the beverage and sat down next to my tiny friend and nemesis (
she's the same child I competed against for the zoo medals). She looked at my big glass of Ribena with baleful eyes and pointed at it and called to her mum. I thought maybe she wanted a drink of Ribena, which I would happily have given her without charge (because I am a nice guy and anyway I suspected that she'd conveniently come out with any cash on her). But if turned out it was not so much that she wanted some Ribena as that she didn't want me to have any. "Mine!" she insisted as she pointed at the glass. She started making a distressed sound which increased when I dared to raise the glass to my lips and take a swig.
She wanted me to stop drinking her Ribena. But it was my Ribena. I had bought it for her to drink, but I had paid for it, "No, mine!" I responded. She was not prepared for such a dazzling rejoinder. She looked like she might be revving herself up for a cry. "Mine!" was her response. She hoped that by saying it louder than I had that that would win her the argument. I am not sure that would stand up in a court of law. Though it might be fun to see. Whoever can shout "Guilty" or "Not Guilty" the loudest is adjudged the winner. The judiciary could be replaced by decibel machines. She was foolish to think that she could defeat me in volume. She is a tiny girl and I am a big fat man. I could take her down on shouting any day of the week. But as she started to cry I decided to take her down with logic.
"Actually I think you will find this is my Ribena. I am very kindly letting you have some, but it belongs to me, so your entreaty is bogus."
She looked at her mum and cried, saying "Mine".
But it wasn't her and I wasn't going to buckle under such tactics. I looked her in the eye and coolly drank more of MY Ribena, smiling as I did so. I said, "This is a pint of Ribena - if you think you can drink it all I will give it to you." She ignored me and just carried on asking her mum to intervene. This child might be used to adults bending to her will and doing what she wants, but she hadn't yet met an adult like me. I am not going to stop drinking my own Ribena (which I probably actually still have the receipt for) just because a tiny human being erroneously believes it is all for her. I was ready to point out that not only was I providing her with free Ribena, but I was putting her up for three days without charging her a penny. Her lack of gratitude was breath-taking. How do kids get away with this shit?
Her mum made her a glass of Ribena of her own, but this was not enough to satiate this cordial megalomaniac. She didn't want a glass of Ribena herself (like I said, she likes fruitshoots) she wasn't going to drink any all weekend - she just didn't want me to have any of it. I wondered if she was actually satirising the avarice of humanity. For how many adults out there needlessly hang on to things that they will never use, simply because they believe they are theirs (and in many cases these are things that they perhaps have no natural right to claim as their own - they've just decided they own them and they want them even though they have so much stuff already). Was I witnessing a sophisticated piece of political theatre. Surely she must know how she looked, demanding a pint of Ribena when she didn't even want to drink her own small glass.
I thought about drinking her glass as well as my own. But whilst this would have been an amusing response I didn't think it was worth deliberately antagonising the situation. It would make me like the kind of prick who burns a Koran knowing what will follow. The Ribena was mine and by rights I could drink it. But the inevitable melt-down that followed would surely be my fault if I was aware of the chain of events I was setting into process.
I wondered if me and this 3 year old would ever get over this impasse, but luckily she had an app on her mum's phone in which a tiny cartoon creature would repeat anything you said to it in a stupid voice and I said, "Richard smells of poo" and the cartoon repeated it and this made the girl laugh and so we were friends again.
I recorded this week's glass shattering Me 1 vs Me2 snooker podcast this afternoon. You can listen to it
on the British Comedy Guide or
subscribe on iTunes. The glass that smashed was not the Ribena glass, but to find out how it came to break and if any of the Mes were hurt in the process you'll have to listen. Has Me2 finally flipped and glassed his opponent in a somewhat Pyrrhic victory? Only one way to find out. I am not giving in with this. You may have noticed.
