In which I get shot down by my kids
Updated: May 3
These are just a few of the putdowns my kids have slung at me during lockdown and I honestly couldn't be prouder of their use of sarcasm, wit, distain and observation...
Aside from the usual "I hate you" and "you're the worst Mum ever" comments, my children sometimes come out with little gems: insults and sneers that, in the same breath, are both cutting and humourous in equal measure. Comments that I really should be telling them off for, but they're just so damn funny. The ones that you can't wait to share with your partner when they get home. Here are just a few of the more memorable ones from the past month...
One of the most onerous things about this lockdown, is having to venture out to the Supermarket to stock up on supplies. There are so many risks involved: trying to keep a two metre distance from the little old dear who insists on reaching over you for the last packet of Garibaldis. The man in his four day old pyjama bottoms and stained t-shirt that doesn't quite cover his protruding stomach, who coughs everywhere and then, after much rummaging, finally produces a handkerchief. The bolshy teen who considers the hood of his jumper and his overstretched sleeves acceptable PPE. Therefore, he is permitted to handle every Snickers multipack on the shelf, before eventually settling for a packet of Twix. It is not surprising that we're all desperately trying to book an online delivery slot just to avoid this trauma. However, for the last two weeks, we haven't been able to secure a slot. So, with heavy heart, I had to send the Husband out to brave the horrors of our local Tesco. I waved him off at the door with a kiss and a farewell embrace. The immortal words of famed WW1 poet Rupert Brooke running through my mind - "If I should die, think only this of me: That there's some corner of a foreign field, That is forever England". "Be careful out there" I said to him. "Make sure you keep your distance and be patient." To which he rolled his eyes. My Son, with one eye on a Pokemon cartoon, and the other on me, shakes his head and simply says "Stop it Mummy. You're embarrasing yourself!"
My seven year old Son absolutely hates kisses. He thinks they're sloppy, unnecessary and just generally disgusting. In other words, he'd rather have his leg chewed off by a bear, than have to endure a kiss. As a result, I haven't had a kiss from him since he was about 3 years old and too young to know any better. One day I asked him "What is it that you hate so much about kisses?" To which he replied "You!" Nothing like a bit of brutal honesty to make you question your worth as a Mother! I considered myself told and sloped off to my room for a lonely night watching repeats of Downton Abbey whilst sobbing into my pillow.
Although I can never get a kiss from him, he does still enjoy a cuddle each night after a bedtime story. So I cherish this time and try to make it last as long as possible. This is usually time for just the two of us, as the Husband doesn't normally arrive home from work until about 9pm and the daugher, being that little bit older, is allowed to stay downstairs to watch her programmes on telly, or FaceTime her friends. However, now that the Husband isn't really going to work, he often pokes his head round the door and laughs at me as I craddle our seven year old like a baby. It probably is quite a funny sight. He's nearly as tall as I am and I can barely lift him anymore. (The Son, not the Husband!) If I'm honest, I probably do baby him far too much! When we are alone, I sigh contentedly and say to him "this is my favourite time of day! What's yours?" He ponders this for a moment, then says matter of factly "lunchtime!"
I have saved my personal favourite until last. A comment so witty and spouted so quickly and venomously, that I couldn't possibly be angry. Only hugely proud and greatly amused. Every Sunday evening, we enjoy nothing more than sitting down as a family to watch a wildlife documentary, or a family friendly show; such as Saturday Night Takeaway or Britain's Got Talent. Last Sunday was no exception. During the commercial break, there was an advert for hair dye. You know the kind: happy, smiling models of all ages, each ridiculously attractive, skipping down the road - hair bouncing, smiling and laughing, somehow managing to avoid smacking into other angry and impatient commuters shouting "Oi! Watch where you're going, you Moron" or bumping head first into a lampost, as I would if I were twirling around like that. One of the women sports a fabulous pastel pink hair-do that she tousles and shakes glamourously. I turn to my daughter and say "do you think Mummy would look good with pink hair?" With a poker straight face, her voice dripping with distain, she replies "you don't even look good with brown hair." The Husband and I were crying...
What little gems have your delightful angels come up with? Tell me in the comments section below.
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