How Grandma Broke My Children


I knew I was in for an interesting night the moment I got home from work.

“Hey, Dad,” said Miss8, meeting me at the door with an urgency usually reserved for the pizza delivery man. “Where do you keep your nut chokers?”

Followed by Master10 inquiring as to my drinking habits.

“You gonna have a gutful of piss tonight, Dad?” he asked, which ironically caused Miss5 to nearly wet herself laughing.

“I beg your pardon?” I stammered. I was a bit lost.

“He wants to know if you’re getting on the grog,” Miss8 clarified for me. “Grog means alcohol.”

“I know what grog means,” I assured her. “How do you?”

It turns out, before Grandma went away to visit my sister she gave our kids a little gift each, and the one she picked out for Master10 was a pearler – a guide to Australian slang. And as he’s been sick in bed since Saturday he’s been doing some reading, with some interesting – and I say the word loosely in place of words like horrifying or concerning – results.

I thought reading was supposed to be good for kids!


Dinner, it seems, will now include the phrase ‘pass the dead horse’, and going wee wee will now be referred to as ‘siphoning the python’.

Even by the girls.

Still, I have to point out it wasn’t as bad as it could have been. In one solitary and encouraging instance I’m pleased to say our good parenting stood its ground, because after dinner I heard Master10 and Miss8 arguing in a bedroom and things could have gone much more poorly.

“You’re a fruit loop,” Miss8 said to Master10.

“Yeah, well you’re the one under fruit loop,” he retaliated.

I’ve never heard that colloquialism before so I looked it up.

Turns out there isn’t an actual phrase ‘the one under fruit loop’, however…the phrase which is actually under the actual phrase fruit loop in the F section is fuck wit, which this little book of horrors describes as a stupid person, and then gives it in a sentence so the kiddies can use it in the correct context.

But you know what? I’m taking this one as a win because they didn’t say it. It’s clutching at straws, I know.

Finally, after the most Aussie Aussie Aussie night I’ve ever been swept up in – and I’ve been to both Austen Tayshus and Kevin Bloody Wilson shows – it was time to hit the hay.

“Goodnight,” I told Master10 as I turned off the light.

“Night, Dad,” he said. I could feel him grinning like a shot fox in the dark as he added, “Now bugger off, I need some shut eye.”

That’s it. When you get home, Grandma, the billylids are having sleep overs at your place – and I’m not taking them back until you’re fixed them.

Now hurry home or I’ll give them the book back and point out where it tells them how to use the term ‘you old boiler’ 😉


‘Raising a family on little more than laughs.’


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