Let me set the scene. I am happily minding my own business in the bathroom, when suddenly a little voice shatters my reverie.
“Mummy! What are you doing with that thing?”
*Jumps six feet in air off toilet*
“Rian! Why are you spying through the keyhole?!”
*Curse under breath. Briefly fear being found dead on toilet like Elvis, only from fright and not cheeseburgers*
“Mummy, are you putting something UP YOUR BOTTOM?!”
Oh god why is this happening to me why didn’t I stuff up that STUPID KEYHOLE and also WHY is my kid spying on me who does he think he is JAMES BOND?! Not that James Bond would stoop to spying on ladies in toilets.
“Rian! Get out of here RIGHT NOW! No, downstairs! DOWNSTAIRS! Rian I can HEAR YOU GIGGLING!!!”
*Boy eventually gets distracted and ambles off. Mummy gets to finish in peace. Slinks downstairs and attempts to hide in kitchen*
“Mummy, why were you doing an injection in the bathroom?”
Crap. Him going to school talking about me shooting up in the bathroom is probably not going to help my already shaky reputation as a somewhat strange bumbling moron with inappropriate conversation topics. He was bound to notice this eventually, that kid can hear a wrapper opening from 20 feet away.
“It’s not an injection darling, it’s something that Mummy uses occasionally to err..well Mummy’s use them sometimes”
“Why? Don’t lie!”
As if I would. Little toerag. How on earth do you explain tampax without scarring them for life?!”
“Erm, ok. Do you remember when we had that talk about babies and where they come from? Excellent, glad we don’t have to reprise THAT gem. Well, mummy’s tummy’s get ready for babies by growing a special lining to keep the baby warm, but if there’s no baby, we don’t need it and it comes out and so we have to use those things just to keep things…err”
*Boy looks smug*
“So it’s to catch your line?”
*Boy wanders off*
Well…I suppose?! Who knew that his Dad taking him fishing would lead him to create such a bizarro period fishing analogy.
Kids are weird.
My little fellow merrily announces “Mummy’s got blood”. As long as it’s not in public, I’m ok!
#FridayFrolics
To catch your line – bahahahaha. Well I had to go for a wee the other day when we were out. It was a fancy restaurant toilet, music playing quietly in the background, and proper ladies having quiet tinkles. Youngest and I were squeezed in a cubicle and my period had chosen to start. Oh delights. Youngest shouted in the loudest voice ever “Oh my GOOOOOOOOOD your bottom is bleeding, your big bottom is bleeding. You need a plaster, a really BIG plaster”. Happy days. #FridayFrolics
Ha! I always remember my little brother trying to get in the bathroom and me screaming at him to go away. He went and told on me. “She won’t let me in the bathroom and she’s just in there tearing paper, I can hear her”!!! Thanks for linking up to #FridayFrolics
Haha! Oh no! My kids think sanitary towels are ‘special plasters’. I felt this was preferable to their belief of ‘special nappies’ – you know, in case they talk to people about them! Thanks so much for joining us for #FridayFrolics
That made me howl …
Cover that keyhole! Word of advice to all! Yikes. #ablogginggoodtime
Oh dear God! My smallest one (boy) keeps informing me he has a baby in his tummy (usually a small giraffe) and I am dreading that idea reaching its inevitable conclusion. Hadn’t even thought of this side of it! #ablogginggoodtime
Hahaha fantastic! Thank you for the laughs I’ve had reading this x #ablogginggoodtime