I'm Not Eating That

In an impressive feat of greed the Kids ate eleven yoghurts between them at dinner. Now, we don't normally stand for that level of corpulence, but the Wife bought them down the market for the princely sum of twenty five pence. And they would have gone green by tomorrow so it seemed like a good idea. No doubt it will return to haunt us at three in the morning when it all comes hurtling out of them like a jet of cream cheese but that's a risk I'm willing for the Wife to take. Apologies if you're eating by the way.

The Boy has been going through an anti-vegetable phase in the past week. This is a little unusual because in the past I have seen him root through the fridge and pilfer raw broccoli. For a while he was very health conscious and would regularly tell anyone who would listen (and many that wouldn't)

"I have to drink lots of water or my poo will come out all hard."

However last week he switched personalities and turned into one of those balloon-like, moon faced children you sometimes see on "documentaries" called "Ten Stone Todders" or something equally intelligent. On being presented his dinner he scowled at it and we had a conversation during which we somehow reversed our roles.

"I hate vegetables. What's that?"

"Aubergine."

"I don't like it."

"You haven't tried it."

" Why is it black?"

"To annoy you. Just bloody eat it!"

"Don't say bloody. I'll tell mum."

"No, don't!"

This happens on occasion. Today it was like this

"Boy, can you ask mummy to make me a cup of coffee?"

"Mum, dad would like a cup of coffee," (looks meaningfully at me) "PLEASE."

Anyway, a row ensued and to cut a frustratingly long story short, it ended with him sitting behind his bedroom door crying. With no trousers on. Although I have no idea why he took his trousers off. Maybe he was contemplating a dirty protest.

After this colossal row (during which the Girl took my distraction as an opportunity to give herself a mashed potato shampoo) the Boy came round again, and the next day ate everything on his plate. Strangely, it made me want to strangle him slightly more. However, this feeling subsided a short while later when the Girl made her Barbie dance on me whilst I was sitting down and the Wife casually said

"I think she just made Barbie give you a lap dance."

You don't live here. You don't know what it's like.