We don't fight over the tv remote control because the tv remote control is usually down the back of the sofa, or under the sofa, or in the lego box ... or pretty much anywhere except the place I've designated the Remote Control Place. Periodically I hide it until she stamps her feet and he bursts into tears, at which point I'll give it back to them in disgust.
The real battle of wills takes place annually and over the central heating.
Who will be the first to crack and flick that switch? Will it be the pathetic aussie caving in with the first gust of damp autumn wind? Or will it be the rugged iron man pom? Well I grew up in Melbourne and so far this is just like being at home: cold, grey and damp. So far, so good.
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