She Nose

Once I’ve settled in for the evening I hate having to leave my cosy home, but sometimes there’s no other option.

Tonight I snuck into the kitchen to finish off a bag of Red Rock chips. There was only a quarter of a bag left, so only enough to cause arguments if I took them into the lounge room where the kids were watching The Lorax. I’d just tipped the last of the dregs into my mouth and tossed the packet into the bin when Miss2 walked in.

Guilt must have been written all over my face because she looked at me suspiciously.

“Up,” she demanded. I picked her up and gave her a kiss on her cheek. She was having none of it. “What you got?” she asked, squinting and pointing at my mouth.

“Muffing,” I lied, trying to talk without parting my lips.

:”I want,” she said – palm flat now.

I looked at Tracey. “She can smell food a mile away,” said my wife.

“That’s incredible,” I said to Tracey as I swallowed the last of the chips. “She must have been a dog in her last life.”

“I try hide stuff up in the glass shelves but it does no good,” said Tracey. “She’ll walk in, smell my breath and scream ‘Chocolate!’ at me. And don’t try to lie about it cause she’ll burst your eardrum.”

“Chocolate?” repeated Miss2. Suddenly she dove out of my arms and into Tracey’s. My wife barely caught her. “Chocolate.”

“No, I don’t have any chocolate,” Tracey told her.

“Chocolate!” demanded Miss2. “Chocolate!!”

“Oh, nice one,” I said to Tracey over my shoulder as I returned to the lounge room. “You really should know better. Hope it ends well.”

When I ducked back into the kitchen a few minutes later all was peaceful with Miss2 sitting in front of a bowl a the dining table.

“There was chocolate ice-cream in the freezer,” said Tracey.

“Clever,” I congratulated her. “That’s why you’re the mummy.” All this praise earned me a withering look.

“Just don’t let the other kids into the kitchen,” she said.

“Why not?” Master7 and I both asked at the same time. He’d just appeared in the doorway behind me.

“Chocolate!” yelled Miss2 from the dining table.

“Alright! Chocolate!” Master7 said happily as Miss8 and Miss5 appeared behind him.

“Because there’s none left,” said Tracey as she tossed the car keys at me. “See you soon.”

So I had to leave my cosy home and go for a drive. Mind you, the thought of chocolate ice-cream kept me from slipping into a deep depression. And the giant snake I ate on the way home.

I walked in the door with the tub of ice-cream and was greeted with a wall of cheers.

A wall of cheers and one little voice coming up from my knees.

“Lolly?” Miss2 said suspiciously, then stuck out her hand.

Not just any dog – in her past life she was a bloodhound.

When not typing away over here and checking his stats every two minutes

Bruce Devereaux hangs out at his ‘BIG FAMILY little income’ Facebook Page.

’raising a family on little more than laughs’


What do you think?

This site uses Akismet to reduce spam. Learn how your comment data is processed.