There are times when I’m really, really glad I have a blog.
“You’re feral!” screamed Master9 on the balcony, causing me to race out of the house to see what the fuss was.
“What’s going on?” I asked Miss7.
She was closest, on account of her running towards me, away from Master9.
“I lifted my skirt and showed him my undies,” she announced proudly.
“Why did you do that?” I wanted to know.
“Because she’s feral!” insisted Master9 from further up the balcony.
But Miss7 had a different take on things.
“Just because I’m having fun,” she grinned, and ran off even as I started to explain that she shouldn’t be doing that sort of thing.
Then suddenly I was in the firing line myself.
“You can’t talk, Dad,” accused Master9. He’d stomped his way down the balcony to have his say. “You like to watch Mum get dressed!”
Yes. Yes, I do. Dressed. Undressed. Even when she bends over I like to watch. What can I say? I’m smitten.
“That’s different,” I told him.
He wanted to know why.
“She’s my wife,” I explained.
“So?” said Master9.
“One day you’ll understand,” I said in my best ‘imparting the wisdom of the ages’ voice. You know, like Obi-Wan Kenobe to Luke. “One day when you’re older.”
“Awww, what?” he said in a tone which clearly indicated I was an idiot and didn’t know what the hell I was talking about. “So suddenly I’m going to like rude bits?!”
Yeah, that’ll never happen. We’ll discuss this again in another few years shall we, young Padawan? I am so glad I’m writing this shit down.
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“Raising a family on little more than laughs”