You may have noticed it’s the Olympics. I know there are several billion Olympic posts floating around, but I couldn’t resist adding my own things that my kid could be an Olympian in.
So here are five things my kid could win an Olympic gold in:
Picture this: A new Mum wakes up with a jump one night. What woke her up? All is quiet…until a smell assails her nostrils. O.M.G. Surely her small, innocent bundle isn’t responsible? It gets worse. A bleary eyed nappy change reveals naught. T’was a trump. A loud enough to wake you up, stench ridden, eyebrow melting trump.
Mum, I’m hungry. No I don’t want dinner. I want a biscuit. What are we doing today? Where are we going? I want to go to the park. No I don’t want to put my shoes on. Can we get the bus? Where’s the bus? FIVE MINUTES?! That’s ages! I want an ice cream. I want that one. THAT’S SO UNFAIR. Ad infinitum.
Mummy, why are you so fat? Mummy, what are those spikes under your arms? Mummy, why are your teeth wonky? Mummy, why is that man so short? Mummy, you smell of poo. And so on. Rude child.
Clothes, toys, food, drink bottles, shit fits. You name it, he can chuck it!
It might seem from a lot of my posts that I don’t like my kid much but that couldn’t be further from the truth. Yes, he’s a complete toerag, but you know what? It’s better than having some boring vanilla child who behaves like an angel at all times. No-one will ever get one over on my boy, he’s hardcore. Anyway, the final gold for my award winning child is squeezing. He gives the best cuddles. Sometimes they turn into Ninja strangleholds which aren’t quite so pleasant, but impressive none the less.