Like most kids, my kids say the funniest shit. Writing it down is essentially why I have a blog.
And after we farmed the kids out on the weekend, so we could pack up the house without having to stop and referee squabbles, I’m wondering if maybe I’ve dropped the ball a bit lately.
Suddenly messages started coming in from Tracey’s sister, Belinda, who’d taken Miss9 for the night.
So this just happened, wrote Auntie Bel, and I thought to myself it’s hard to tell from those four words whether she was highly amused or a bit miffed.
“Are they your swimmers?” Miss9 had asked.
“Sure are,” said her auntie.
“Oh good,” sighed Miss9, “or that would be gross.”
This is blog fodder, and I’m just gonna go with she was highly amused so I don’t have to spend the lead up to Christmas apologising.
At least with the next message from Belinda there was an indication she was smiling because she mentioned her two boys ‘lost their shit laughing’ when Miss9 announced, “If a boy tries to kiss me when I’m older I’ll probably just headbutt them.”
Not only is that bloggable, it’s tellable at her 21st or engagement party.
But when the phone announced a third message from Bel an hour later, it seemed the fun was over.
“What’s happened?” Tracey asked, because she caught me frowning at the screen and not saying much.
“Nothing,” I said, putting the phone down and going back to moving boxes.
She waited. I explained it was about Miss9 and that there’d been a problem. Nothing to worry about, but we’ll sort it out when she came home.
“What aren’t you telling me?” Tracey demanded.
“Let’s just say next year we’re going to have to work on her self esteem,” I said, making myself scarce because Tracey had snatched my phone up off the floor.
Apparently, Miss9 was having such a fat time she’d just declared, “Don’t tell Mum but I get my good looks from you, Aunty Bel.”
I confess, I had concerns on how that was going to go over this end.
But with her usual mental gymnastics, Tracey was immediately laughing it off.
“I’m guessing,” she chuckled, going back to boxing up our stuff, “she was just trying to make up for the swimmers comment earlier.”
You keep telling yourself that, my lovely, and I’ll keep taking notes and saving them to the interweb for safe keeping. You know, for the wedding speeches.
Seriously, with this family all you have to do is listen – or read text messages from your sister in law – and the blog pretty much writes itself.
Raising a family on little more than laughs