Are we nearly there yet mummy? » Breakfast

Tess tea clets?

Laura - AWNTYM? — Mon, 22 Feb 2010 09:00:44 +0000

This morning as the snow fell the 4 year old, the 5 year old and I ate breakfast. I decided to sit back, sip my tea and daydream seeing as they weren’t having the ‘he/she is looking at me again’ argument that is normally had over breakfast.

4 year old – What are they again?

5 year old – Testicles

4 year old - Tesss tea clets?

5 year old - No, testicles

4 year old - Do you have testinckles?

5 year old – No, only boys have testicles

4 year old - So, does Mummy have tenticles?

5 year old - No

4 year old - What are they called again?

The 5 year old rolls her eyes to the ceiling as only a true wannabe teenager could.

5 year old - They are TESTICLES! OK?

4 year old - OK

Bamboozled, once again, by the 3 year old

Laura - AWNTYM? — Wed, 27 Jan 2010 10:00:52 +0000

Every morning the 3 year old gets into bed with me at some ungodly hour and wants to chat about his breakfast requirements.

3 year old – I would like coconuts for breakfast

Me - You’d like coconuts?!

3 year old – Yes, like [Teacher Friend Mother of 3], she has coconuts for breakfast

Me - I’m sure she doesn’t

3 year old - When we stayed there she gave us coconuts for breakfast

Me – Shhh, now, go back to sleep

It is only now, hours later that it dawns on me …

He means Coco Pops.

Mummy You Have A Moustache!

Laura - AWNTYM? — Mon, 25 Jan 2010 09:00:52 +0000

I was sat at the dining table this morning simultaneously eating breakfast and applying my make-up.

The 5 year old was sat opposite and we were talking about school, crunchy nut cornflakes and whether the 3 year old would make it upstairs for an emergency poo or not. Fairly standard breakfast discussions round our way.

It was quite pleasant; Supping my tea and shovelling my Weetabix whilst applying mascara.

I wasn’t concentrating on what I was doing (see multi-tasking above) when the 5 year old shouted “Mummy, you have a moustache”. Sure enough when I looked in the mirror, I had some sort of ‘remnant of dark eyeshadow moustache’.

When I said, “No look, it’s just a make-up smudge” and tried to rub it off I simply made it bigger … in the style of a Mexican bandit.

Clearly shocked to see her mother turning into Freddie Mercury before her eyes she shouted “It’s still there. Mummy, you have a big moustache” then got up and wandered off. Probably to tell her father he had married a man.

It was then that I vowed to clear out my make-up bag and get rid of all the half crumbling eye shadows and bits of old eyeliner pencil.

I cleaned myself up and thanked the 5 year old for telling me. I could have quite easily pootled off on the school run and then onto work without being any the wiser. Only last week I went to work and realised that I had, yet again, forgotten to do my hair when I was greeted in the work toilet mirror by a Leo Sayer lookalikey.

It’s OK though, because when I asked the 5 year old, my new image consultant, if she thought I’d ever have a real moustache, she said “No, only people without a house get moustaches”.

Phew. Better keep paying the rent then.