Tuesday 4 March 2014

Back Once Again

How the hell is it March?

Well, somehow three months have gone past since my last post. There's no specific reason for this - just the usual case of man planning and God laughing. Still, you'll no doubt be very pleased to know that pretty much nothing has changed in our lives since the last time we invited you in. As if to prove this yesterday, the Boy managed to do a poo that was lime green. Well, lime green and brown. This may seem like an exaggeration, but I can assure you it isn't and no I'm not going to post a picture because this isn't http://www.ratemypoo.com/

Yes. That website exists. You're just going to have to deal with that information.

I won't lie. I was a bit surprised by a lime green poo, so I called the Wife in to look at it. She was quite surprised too and, after a moment of consideration said;

"You know, that might work in the living room."

Over the past ten years I've got to understand how the Wife's mind works, and it occurred to me that she probably meant the colour. Not the actual poo. Since the Boy is seven and the Girl is five we've had several crap-free years with our living room, and I'd started to take it for granted. Plus, as a coffee-table centre piece, I don't think would have worked with the Denby tea set.

The Boy was simply delighted with what he clearly considered a new-found super-power - and was mildly crushed when we pointed out it was probably because he'd eaten candy floss the day before that was a level of blue that can only be conveyed in capital letters, font: helvetica, pica: 16

BLUE

Oh yes. Still, on a certain level it pleases me that the Boy is still young enough to think that the attractiveness of food is directly proportional with it similarity to the colour of a crayon.

Although I do wish he'd stop eating all the crayons.

Typically the Boy dealt with his disappointment that he was not going to be able to produce a rainbow or even tartan bowel movement by delving into the very secrets of the universe and coming up with the following question;

"Is it possible to flambé a platypus?"

This was infinitely preferable to the conversation the Girl was trying to embark on with me whilst she was sitting in the bath that went along the lines of;

"Do babies come from here?"

She pointed at her... er... lady garden.

"Um, yes. Darling. How was sch-?"

"What, from the hole?"

"How was school, darling?"

She ignored me, and leaned forward in the bath as if trying to see up-

"I CANNOT FUNCTION IN THESE CIRCUMSTANCES!"

I yelled, and flounced out of the bathroom like the big frilly girl's blouse I am.

In fact, there is one new aspect to our lives - we're moving. Which means that the Girl can alienate a whole new set of neighbours by making a noise like a wolverine being fed into a jet engine when we're unreasonable enough to ask her to get changed, or look at her funny. Or breathe after eleven o'clock. And of course the Boy will do his bit by, as he currently does, singing a non-stop medley of the hits of Cher.

I have to take a certain amount of responsibility here, because he heard me singing "Gypsies, Tramps and Thieves" a few weeks ago and got a bit obsessed with the song, so I bought it for him and put it on his MP3 player, which was I thought was a fine idea. Mainly because I had never heard anything other than the first verse and therefore wasn't expecting him to walk around school singing;

"Picked up a boy just south of Mobile, gave him a ride, filled him with a hot meal. I was sixteen, he was twenty-one. Rode with us to Memphis and papa would shot him if he knew what he'd done."

There's a possibility this will have repercussions.

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