Taking The Piss


Everyone in this family is far better at comebacks than me. They get it from their Mum. I generally think of something vaguely witty to say long after the event.

“You can’t go in there,” Tracey told me, explaining our son was in the bath.

I had no idea why she thought this might be a problem.

“I’m sorry, mate,” I said, barging into the bathroom. “I need to use the loo.”

“No!” said Master10. “Please don’t! I’ll get out!”

This was odd, because the loo is in the same room as the bath, shower, two washing machines, dryer, laundry tub, vanity and towel cupboards, so this sort of intrusion is always happening around here.

The boy must be growing up, I thought to myself. Privacy is suddenly a thing. 

I knew just what to say.

“Don’t be stupid,” I told him, and lifted the lid.

“But I was having a nice bath and now the room will smell.”

Ah, now I knew what the problem was. Miscommunication.

“I’m only doing a pee,” I assured him.

But this was not the deal sealer I expected it to be.

He stood up, grabbed a towel and, without dabbing a single bit of water off his body, wrapped it around himself and, in a huff of distaste, headed for the door.

“Everything that comes out of you stinks,” he grinned as he left the room.

Which was when I heard my wife’s unsympathetic chuckle from the kitchen, followed by the distinctive sound of a vigorous and not entirely supportive high five.

I’ve decided to think she was celebrating his funny one liner, rather than agreeing with his point.

“So does everyone who’s come out of your mother,” I should have yelled back at him, but I didn’t think of it until five minutes later.

Don’t you hate that?! Hopefully he’s having a bath tomorrow night and if I down a litre of water I’ll get a chance to use it.


 ~ 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.