Sunday, 1 February 2015
What did you just say?
I post a lot of my random conversations with my children on my Facebook wall, and my friend, Mary, is always telling me I should write them down and make an altogether different book from the one I usually write. The biggest difference of all being that you really can't make this shit up!
Let's start off with the time when Alex was very young and playing on his toy phone. I was in the kitchen when I heard him throw the phone down and declare, "Blucking phone!" I knew what he meant to say, which beggared the question of how many times I'd sworn on the phone, so I admonished him for saying a bad word. His response? "But, Mummy, I only said blucking I didn't say barst'd."
Then, of course, one particularly difficult bedtime, in the attempt to get maybe just sixty more seconds out of me, he got up for the umpteenth time to inform me that he didn't want to get up, he was just coming in to tell me his hair was growing. I must confess, that is one of my favourites. Along with watching him put his Teddy on the naughty square for a time out and instructing him that while he was there he should think about why he was there.
Of course, it didn't end there. When he entered year four he told me he was excited because they were going to be playing with giblets in class. My first thought was, I hope they'll be wearing gloves, followed by, what the hell are they doing with the inside of a chicken? So I asked him. "What are you doing with giblets, Al?" "Well," he said. "We're going to feed them and clean their cage and hold them." After staring blankly at him for several moments I realised what he was talking about. "Do you mean gerbils?" "Yes. That's what I said." No, love, it really wasn't.
Oh and when we got our new car and were deciding whether to give it a boy's name or a girl's name. Alex suggested it would be a good idea if we waited until we went to get petrol and then had a look underneath to see which sex it was.... and yes... he was deadly serious.
Gracie is just as bad, if not worse. She's the more practical and caustic of my sproglets. There are beautiful Kodak moments such as the time when she turned 9 and asked me not to stop singing her special song to her. I of course replied, "Not even when you're 99." To which she said sleepily, "I love you mummy.... but you do know you'll be dead when I'm 99 don't you?" Kodak moment gone.
And this week's classic when she found out I didn't breast feed her. "Thank God. I wouldn't like the taste of breast food. Boobs are for lying on, not eating on."
Which was followed by an even better one by Alex... "Mum why do cannonballs eat people?" He meant cannibals and was most miffed with me when I nearly laughed up a lung.
There are so many I couldn't possibly remember them all, so I suppose I should start writing 'em down. Even if it's just for them to look back on in year's to come.
What about your mini-me's? What are the little conversations that have stuck in your mind?