Can you issue an ASBO to a three year old?

Okay. I think I spent too much time finding those Nikki clips last night. This morning, I turned into her and had a diva strop. Still in bed, rather early, I sat up and screamed my frustration at the opposite wall. It was a case of, if you can't beat them join them. I have spoken before about The Wailing Wall. But let me tell you, the decibel level has escalated to epic proportions since that time. The noisy little bastards have grown a year older - our street has become occupied territory. I sometimes forget that they don't actually live next door. Could they really be only visiting? Do their erratic acoustics merely echo and reverberate in my mind, or ricochet around the walls of my home, hours after they have left? And who visits anybody at 6 am, pray tell?

Can you issue an ASBO to a three year old?

I knew this would happen, of course. I could see it coming after The Ugly Dogs took up residence. My neighbours' grown up daughter, mother of The Loudest Children in the Land - seriously, if this was the Victorian era, the brats would be circus freaks - bought these two very large dogs of the same breed, and when she got pregnant, begged her parents to take them off her. So since then, my baby Puppy has had restricted access to the front garden, and we have to coordinate walkies so that the Ugly Dogs aren't in their front yard when we pass; one of them is particularly vicious, and Puppy has delusions of grandeur. When I found out the girl was having twins, I should've known they'd go the same way as the dogs and started looking for a new place to live immediately. At least three towns away.

But I digress. Back to this morning. For me, it was the culmination of weeks of torture. According to Wikipedia: 'Tenko was created by Lavinia Warner after she had conducted research into the internment of a nursing corps. officer Margot Turner for an edition of This Is Your Life and was convinced of the dramatic potential of these women's stories.' Yeah, whatever, I know the truth; she was laying in bed one morning after two weeks of being subjected to early wake up calls from the Spawn of Satan and trying to imagine something worse!

But enough of the dramatics. Let's look on the bright side. I am glad to report that one of the twins is very imaginative. This morning she invented a brand new game called Let's Shout the Same Word Over and Over Until Chica's Ears Bleed. The little darling! How precious!

This is seriously decimating what little desire I had to ever have children. Although you know, obviously I would be a much more responsible parent. I don't know why they don't make muzzles for children yet, but if I ever reproduce, you can expect to see them in all the major stores. Although to be fair, some days it's not even the kids that wake me up. It's their grandad, Bellowing Bill, an amateur town cryer if ever I heard one. And at least this morning it was the shouting rather than the crying (although the crying has since begun in earnest.) The crying is the absolute worst. Not because they are any louder, but because this provokes their mother into unleashing a string of expletives so loud and so unnecessary that I'm surprised it hasn't had some real and vital consequence. For instance, her high-pitched viral warblings could attract the advances of a randy Johnny Vegas, much like the mating call of a drunk badger. Or, her short-fused temperament and gutter mouth might invoke the spirit of the Slater Sisters. I can see her now, joining their ranks, painting their faces with Burberry stripes, running riot over Albert Square and placing a Chav Embargo on The Queen Vic. This would then plunge Walford into economic crisis and destabilise local politics to the Nth degree, allowing them to take power and exercise their will over all Cockney men, bringing closure to all of their affairs with Alfie Moon.

I tell you I am not taking this laying down. I am plotting my revenge. Maybe I could get BB's Nikki to visit me for Sunday lunch, then we could adopt her as a house mascot and wheel her out every morning as a sort of human alarm clock? Or I could take all of the clips I posted last night, set them on a tape loop attached to a succession of megaphones, and pump it into their house, or failing that directly into their eardrums? I could get a top surgeon to put a chip in their brains perhaps, and control their waking and sleeping hours with my mobile phone. I'm sure I could get someone to work on this with me; just think - I may have found an actual use for Bluetooth!

I think I just need to be an adult, invite their mother over here for a cup of tea and sit down and talk about this rationally. She could probably get an absolute fortune for those kids on eBay. Think of all the handbags!