Please Have Mirthy On Me

“Dad, I’ve got a joke for you,” Master12 said from the back seat as we drove around Orange today.

Tracey was doing a photo-shoot and I’d been tasked with filling up the tank and buying some cheese and iceblocks for a dinner date later.

“Go on then,” I prompted him, expecting the usual knock knock nonsense the kids usually offer up. Like the one we got as we left Bathurst an hour earlier – Knock, knock. Who’s there? Doctor. Doctor Who. Yes, that’s right.

Riveting stuff.

“A kid kills a butterfly and his dad says he can’t have butter for a week,” Master12 started.

“Who’s there?” I interrupted.

“Dad, listen. The next week he kills a honeybee and his dad says he can’t have honey for a week.”

I suddenly had the sneaking suspicion I’d heard this joke before but I couldn’t quite recall the punchline.

“The next week the son comes up to his dad,” said Master12 – and I could hear the grin in his voice, “and says, ‘Dad, Mum just killed a cockroach. Do you want to tell her or should I?'”

The car erupted.

I confess I chuckled heartily too, until it occurred to me no-one was asking me to explain the joke. No-one.

“That’s a bit rude,” I said over my shoulder to Master12. “Where did you hear that anyway?”

We’d been spending a bit of time with my cousins lately, but they didn’t seem the type.

“I told him,” said Miss13, proudly.

“Okay, so where did you get it?”

“Just on Facebook,” she said.

This exchange was all done against a background of mirth. Mostly from one of their little sisters.

“Hahahaha!” laughed Miss10. This was clearly the funniest thing she’d ever heard. “You get it, Dad?”

“Yes,” I said. Then asked a little nervously, “Do you?”

“Of course, I do,” she said. “His mum can’t have any cock all week.”

Her words detonated another laugh-bomb in the back of the car. Front seat too. I should have been torn between being Mr Grown-Up and Mr Inappropriate-Laughter but the first guy didn’t even show up for an interview. I tilted the rearview mirror down. She was grinning, which I knew I was supposed to have found worrying, but I gave myself a few seconds to enjoy the inappropriateness of the moment.

As they’d deteriorated into coughing fits and gasping for breath I knew Master12 and Miss13 were highly amused too, while Miss5 and Miss7 were, I told myself, just joining in the hilarity because laughing can be contagious.

“But why,” I asked, finally coaxing the words out of my mouth, “do you think that’s funny?”

In the mirror I saw Miss10 do a magnificent eye roll. Quality stuff. Lots of white.

“I’d have thought you’d understand, Dad,” she admonished me.

And I’d have thought you wouldn’t, I thought to myself.

“Because,” she went on, “a cocktail is a drink and she can’t have any because she killed a cockroach.”

At this point I had to pull the car over to the side of the road. You can’t drive when you’re crying, even if they’re riotously happy (and more than a bit relieved) tears.

Master12 doing an impression of me with my lazy eye.
Met this star of the silver screen this week. I found myself a little starstruck in front of this celebrity. This was one of the had-to-do’s on my wish list for this journey. She was magnificent.
We watched The Dish on the bus the night before, and I was thrilled the kids were just as excited as me when we got there. Actually, before that even. You can spot her amongst the hills and fields from the main road as you drive out to see her.
Apparently, they didn’t play cricket in the dish the way they made out in the movie. At least, it’s never been admitted to. But some guys did drive remote control cars inside her a few years ago.

Whispering Dishes. Two set up across the park. You whisper into one and anyone at the other dish can hear you. Master12: “Dad. Dad, can you hear me?”
Me:”Yes.” Master12: “Can we have something to eat now? I’m hungry.”
Heaps to learn and keep the kids interested just in the garden before you enter the complex.
“How about I take a photo?” I said to Tracey. She jumped at the idea. Then tonight I got in trouble because The Dish is in focus instead of her and the kids. What did she think we were there to take photos of?

This week’s selfies

This week’s disaster

The water pump which services our taps and shower literally fell apart this week. Turns out one of the screws broke and the other ones weren’t doing much better. I don’t even change washers back at home, so it was reasonable for Tracey to think we’d have to call in a professional. I agreed, but decided to give it a go myself first. You know, because that way the guy would be able to charge more to fix the original problem and whatever new issues I add. Thing is, a new 24v pump was $500+ and had to be ordered in, and even a 12v pump was over $300 (but at least it was in the store).
Much to the surprise of everyone who knows me, I actually managed to fix it. Especially pleased to say I had to use two strips of velcro to get the 12v/24v converter (add $100) to stick to the wall. So far all going well. No, I don’t expect that to continue, but at least I have this moment and no one can take that away from me. Tracey agreed with me I was looking especially manly after the transplant was compete. 

Raising a family on little more than laughs

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4 Comments

  • Just hilarious, I was also thinking, that she was thinking,something to do with chicken, but cocktails are way better!! Love your blog, it either makes me laugh or cry, you gave a great writing style, honest, to the point and a bit daggy, love it! Have a lovely week with your tribe.

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