things I didn't know I found annoying until I had children.

Yes- the collections, I have heard that. A collection of an apple core, scrap paper, lego bricks and jigsaw pieces, mixed with some of my clothes . My argument that collections are compilations of things vaguely alike was met with blank stares. I would just bin the lot, but so often they contain stuff that is mine. Maybe it's some ancient gatherer reflex.

reni2 I have asked. "We were going on holiday," is a popular explanation, and has the benefit of internal logic. If you're going on holiday, you obviously need to pack a bag. I've never received a satisfactory answer to the follow-up question: "Why is Toothless going on holiday?"

They also do it when no holiday game has been declared. Sometimes it's a school game. Sometimes it's a picnic game. Sometimes it's a collection (these bags often also include leaves and acorns and toilet roll tubes). Sometimes I shake the bag violently upside down until all the things come out (even the spikey things which get stuck in bag linings) and demand that everything gets put away. Then later I have to pick it all out of the Playmobil box because it has been incorrectly filed.

Would any of that apply to yours?!

Do your kids have an answer why they do that, Damn? I am truly intrigued and mine don't know

The inability of a child to find anything. Mummy, where are my cycling shorts? In your PE bag. PE bag? Yes, that red string bag you've been using for PE for 4 years. Mummy, where is the PE bag? Somewhere near the door. Mummy it's not here! Yes, there it is, on top of the school-related pile. Oh, THAT bag. (only one) Rummages. Mummy, they are not in here. You must have left them at school then. Never! Here. Oh, there they are! Well, they weren't in there before!

Oh yes reni2! The bags of random stuff. Drives me absolutely wild. I don't mind putting away Playmobil. I don't mind putting away jigsaws. I don't mind putting away dolls, or play food or cars or McDonald's Happy Meal toys from How to Train Your Dragon 2. What I hate is unpacking a tiny handbag and putting away one Playmobil hedgehog, one dolly hat, one dolly sleepsuit, one teddy, four plastic cupcakes, a book and a fragile plastic dragon with wings which fall off every 2.4 seconds. Argh!

Toys at Christmas, why do I bother when they end up playing with the wrapping.

The incessant whining. Could we not at least start with saying whatever it is in a normal voice? I cannot understand the whiny noises, but she goes straight into them...

Yes to the face touching. And DS sort of scrabbles at my ribcage too - we're both standing up, he reaches up and...scrabbles. It takes all my self control not to swat him off.

Both DC do a special "muuuummmyyy" where the tone does a sort of glissando up-down-up. After I've heard that multiple times, I start to physically twitch.

Touching thing doesn't bother me.

Repetition. And not pausing for breath inbetween eqch sentence makes me want to scratch my eyes out.
I.e:
'Mummy can I have some milk mummy can I have some milk mummy can I have some milk. MUMMY CAN I HAVE SOME MILK'

Give a fucking split second to answer! At least let me draw breath! But no.
It's relentless.

Also pestering and pestering for a certain toy then not playing with it. Ever.

Assumption that I should buy them something in every single shop we go anywhere near. Tantrum and total meltdown when I don't.

The expectation that you are 'the font of all knowledge'. It never stops!

When they get older, they just contact you by phone instead.

Recent examples (both while at work)
Mum..
yes..
the train's been cancelled...When's the next one
Where are you?
At the train station..

and
Mum, there's a direct debit gone out of my bank account, what is it?

The phrase 'I'm not F**king wikipedia' may have been heard in our house a few times

justawater, oh yes.

Alternatively;

And then we had ice cream.
Can I have ice cream now?

I suffered a door related injury as a child. My Mum was putting my brothers to bed, I was standing outside the room, door ajar. As my Mum shut the door my fingers were still in the crack of it. To this day the bone on the most squished finger is slightly more gnarly (?) than the others.

I don't have DC. However my name is "Mummy X" due a reason I haven't yet cottoned on to. My colleagues conversation with me I presume is practice for when I do have children. I nearly tore my hair out

Mummy X?
Yes...
I don't like this soup
ok...
do you think it's the brand or the flavour
(How the fuck would I know)
I'm not sure
mummy X?
Yes...
Do I put it in the bin or the sink
(Wherever you bloody want!)
Mummy X?

YES?!
How do you make soup? And is it food or a drink?

"Do you remember when this happened?"

Yes, DS, it was five minutes ago and I WAS THERE.

The drawing out of the u in Mummy.

MUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUMMY!

Fuck right off with that, please and thanks awfully.

Having to ask "Did you wipe your bum? Did you flush? Don't fib, go and flush it. Wash your hands. Wash your hands. WASH YOUR FLIPPING HANDS."

Before I had children doors and doorways barely registered on my consciousness, and now I feel a small sense of victory anytime I manage to walk through one without having to push aside a small child, step over a dog or dodge a flying missile toy. And I have to shout "don't play with doors, they're dangerous" a lot. They've both had door-related injuries, something that is vanishingly rare in adults, to the point the "walking into a door" is a euphemism for being beaten up. Have they learned from their injuries? No!

Having spewed my complaints about ds on here last night, I have to share that he did tidy up the house before I got home tonight. He'd hoovered, tidied, made my bed and folded and put away the easing in the (what he thought was) the tumble drier. It was actually the dirty washing in the washing machine, so I've had to find it and wash it!

So, he CAN do it (when the Xbox has been banned)

For me the worst are a) the weird meandering across the pavement when you are walking together, eg this is your side of the pavement, this is mine and b) Stupidly I think how cute is it that DD aged 10 still wants to hold my hand. No she doesn't she just thinks I will help propel her up the hill.

I have just had to insist that taking turns doesn't apply in some situations. I don't care if you went in the bathroom first yesterday, you take a billionty years to have a 5 minute shower - you're going first!

Bath - oh yes. BUt luckily we have one with a very gurgly drain, so getting him out is easy, I just pull the plug and then he's in a hurry to get out before the gurgling starts

Yes, the sleep bear is often snuggled up in there with the remote! Glad mine are not the only ones.

reni mine do that! I spend my whole fucking life unpacking and putting away the contents of small backpacks and handbags. And they have no problem packing away something incredibly precious, like a toy which must be present at bedtime, which then has to be located without too much swearing!

Dolls hair.
Really really annoying.

Bags. I hate bags that kids have access to. From 2 to 8 years they pack fucking bags.

Examples:

3 marbles, 10 jigsaw pieces from 4 different jigsaws, a fork, a few Lego bricks, a banana, a towel and 1 of my socks
A couple of scarves used as wrappers hiding a cup, the tv remote, some bricks, an apple, some hairclips and an old phone

Why do they do this? Or is it only my kids who do this? They cannot answer that. I want to use a certain handbag and find it packed with random shit.