My kids, bless their little cotton James Bonds socks, are leading double lives. How do I know? Because they left a clue.
“That’s just their spelling,” Tracey explained to me when I showed her the folded piece of paper I found in a drawer.
Maybe, but I still needed to have it translated.
“You want to tell me what this says?” I said to Master8 and Miss10.
Miss10 opened the sheet of paper up with her brother looking over her shoulder. Then they both froze.
“Oh…” said Miss10, looking about as shifty as I’ve ever seen her. Master8 also went for guilt but added a hint of cheek at the edges of his mouth.
On the paper were the following instructions:
Plan A: We spy on Mum without her knowing.
Plan B: We throw toys to distract Mum while we are spying on her.
Plan C: We do both A and B but quicker and sneakier and be dressed differently.
Plan D: Spy on Molly and Sophie and we be a lot, lot, lot more careful.
When I was a kid I wanted to be James Bond. And by ‘kid’ I mean until I was well into my thirties. To be a spy, one must have nerve, cunning and be prepared to sleep with good looking women for the national good. I figured me, me and me.
Naturally, I was keen to hear how their mission ended. With such careful planning they had it in the bag, surely. So was it a resounding success?
As Master8 explained:
“We ran out of plans.”
If we got a chuckle out of you please repay with a share 🙂
When not over here, Bruce hangs out at his Big Family Little Income Facebook Page.
”Raising a family on little more than laughs.”