Who’d have thought teaching the kids to share might one day bite me on the bum?
As I’m in Perth at the moment meeting our grandson, Tracey phoned me this morning chuckling over the three older kids coming back from a milk run to the corner store today with an unusual treat – a bag of jelly beans almost exactly the same as the yummy chemist-bought jelly beans aren’t. They were more your Harry Potter earwax flavoured sort.
“This’ll be so much fun!” Master10 announced as he held the packet of sweet & foul high in front of him like a trophy when the kids arrived home.
He thought it would be hilarious for all the kids to play Russian Roulette with their tastebuds. All five of them gathered around the kitchen table and pulled out a random bean.
“Ready?” he asked them. They nodded eagerly. “Go!”
Ten seconds later three of his siblings were spitting their pick into their hands and he was retching and scrambling for a bucket.
It’s nice to know that just because I’m not at home at the moment, the dumb has continued to happen.
Only Miss3 seemed happy with her choice.
“Gak….I….hukkk…got vomit….gwark….flavour…” said Master10.
The other buys did just as poorly – stinky socks, rotten egg and canned dog food.
None of them sound especially more-ish.
Which was why Tracey was surprised they decided to play again, especially which other pearlers like booger and baby wipes still untested.
“Geeerk….same…..hurrk…vomit…” Master10 was complaining a minute later.
“Did you get a good one?” I asked Tracey.
“Don’t be stupid,” she said. “I’m not dumb enough to play this.”
But at least this time the others faired better.
“My lolly all yummy,” said Miss3, even digging in and taking out several more to chomp on.
Tracey told me our little dynamo had eaten most the pack without pulling any faces.
“What are the chances of that?” I asked.
“Pretty slim,” said Tracey. “But since we’ve caught her eating some pretty foul stuff over the years I think she just doesn’t care so long as it’s called a lolly.”
I really hope Tracey’s right, because she had something much less funny to pass on to me.
“Oh, I promised the kids if they saved you a couple of beans you’d give it a go when you got home,” she grinned down the phone at me, and I stopped laughing as much.
“Tell them they don’t have to do that,” I begged.
“I’m not going to tell them that,” said Tracey. “I think it’s really lovely they want to share with you. We need to encourage this.”
Here’s hoping Miss3 likes the taste of sticky socks and lawn clippings (we know she’s fine with boogers and dog food) because if she’s had all good ones then the chances increase I’m going to need to borrow Master10’s spew bucket tomorrow.
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“Raising a family on little more than laughs.”