Toe Nut
by“Donuts!” Miss3 had squealed delightedly. She was ‘helping’ Tracey put away the groceries. “Mummy, I love donuts. Tank you!”
There were no donuts. This was going to be a problem.
“Donuts!” Miss3 had squealed delightedly. She was ‘helping’ Tracey put away the groceries. “Mummy, I love donuts. Tank you!”
There were no donuts. This was going to be a problem.
“Arrr, morn’n maties,” was what I greeted the kids with this morning. They looked at me like I’d lost it.
“I don wanna see your doodle!” Miss3 pointed and screamed sweetly at me this morning. I was in the shower and she’d just burst…
“I think,” I said to my wife with just a hint of tone when she suggested waiting for me to arrive before registering the kids for athletics, “I can manage to fill out a form or two.”
Turns out I was wrong.
The first two weeks of Little Athletics are a trial, and next week we’ll be signing the kids up and paying our fees. I’m not sure if it’s because we deal so much in hand me downs in this big family, but the kids are super excited because they get a new shirt.
People always assume, because I have so many kids, I’m good with tips and parenting advice. Nuh huh. The only thing seven kids proves is I have no rhythm.
I can only guess what must have been going through the mind of Miss9 when she cast an eye over my Fathers Day gift.
The husband of a friend of mine is in a bit of a foul mood at the moment, because his new fishing rod is broken. Here’s what happened…
“You’ll know this song,” I told my daughter at the local choir competition. “It’s from The Sound Of Music.”
“What’s that?” Miss6 asked me.
Oh, dear….
One of the things I love about small town living is communication: Chatting in shops, knowing neighbours & waving at people in cars. But when things go wrong…
“But that’s what a girl’s wee wee is called,” Master8 assured me. “A vagina.”
I mean, on the one hand it’s nice we’re attempting to use the proper names for things now, but on the other hand….
My Fantasy Fathers Day starts with a: “Good afternoon! Happy Father’s Day!”
I know it’s not nice to laugh at someone else’s misfortune but people do it to me all the time so I’m feeling entitled.
We were at a friend’s place for dinner tonight and we were looking through their baby albums and pics on their computer having a hearty laugh at their children’s expense when it suddenly occurred to me we couldn’t do this. It’s not that we don’t have any photos, it’s that we have too many.
I’d gone to snuggle into her and, unusually, found her head lying directly on the mattress. I could tell the moment her memory kicked in, because suddenly she was sitting upright. “That little thief!”