I am She’s Not Quite Getting it Mum

“WHAT is THAT Mammy?”

“What is what Sweetie?”

“What is THAT fing on the tray?”
“That is the chicken for Mammy and Daddy’s dinner tonight.”

“Dat is NOT a chucken. Chucken is white.”
“Chicken is white when it is cooked. This is a raw chicken.”

“Why is it not moooovin like?”
“Because it’s dead Baby.”

“Nooooooooo? Who kulled the chicken?”
“Erm, the Farmer killed the chicken so that Mammy can cook the chicken before I eat it.” (This may not end well…๐Ÿ˜ฅ๐Ÿ˜ฅ๐Ÿ˜ฅ)

“But that Farmer should NOT kill his wee chuckens. That is NOT very nice.”
“But how would we get chicken for our dinner if the farmer doesn’t kill it pet?”

(Looks at me as if I’m the most intellectually challenged cretur on the planet…๐Ÿ˜…)
“You COULD just go to the shop and BUY chucken Mammy. Then the farmer could stop killing da wee chuckens and everyone would be happy.”

“Ok. ๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿ˜That’s a great idea. I’ll do that the next day.”
“Good Mammy… And if you see that farmer, sort him out. He shouldn’t be going around kulling his wee pet chuckens. That is not nice behaviour.”

(I wonder if I should tell her where Granda will be sending her buddies Ellie and JohnJoe next Spring? ๐Ÿฎ๐Ÿ„๐Ÿฎ๐Ÿ„๐Ÿฎ๐Ÿ„๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚)

#fml #iswineonatuesdayallowed

How terrible I am.
How truly awful and immature I am.
Today, Mini-Me ate chucken.
My long time followers will know that Mini-Me decided recently that she “HATES chucken,”๐Ÿ“ so imagine my surprise when I found her happily devouring not 1, not 2, but THREE Chucken fingers earlier today.
I’m not sure if it was because Her Uncle Daniel cooked them for her,  instead of Mammy who obviously tries to poison her every mealtime by even SUGGESTING chucken, or because her cousins were eating them, declaring them to be yummy! ๐Ÿ˜๐Ÿ˜
 It MIGHT have been SOMETHING to do with the fact that she THOUGHT they were “fushfungers”… ๐Ÿ˜‚
I was about to ask her if she was enjoying her chicken, when she piped up “Uncle Daniel, these Fushfungers are yummy!” ๐Ÿ˜‚
I didn’t correct her.
I offered her another one and told her what a good girl she was… and then I laughed and laughed and laughed. ๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚

Yup.
Terrible and awful I am, but terribly funny and awfully satisfying it was! ๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚
Bad Mammy… 

I’m going straight to hell.

But that is OK as all of my friends will already be there and the grapes shall always be warm. ๐Ÿ˜ˆ๐Ÿ˜ˆ๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚
How was your day? 
๐Ÿ“๐Ÿ“๐Ÿ”๐Ÿ“๐Ÿ”๐Ÿ“๐Ÿ”๐Ÿ“๐Ÿ”๐Ÿ“๐Ÿ”๐Ÿ“๐Ÿ”๐Ÿ“๐Ÿ”๐Ÿ“๐Ÿ”

I am Seriously long dinner Mum

S-Mum is foooooked. ๐Ÿ˜ฉ๐Ÿ˜ฉ๐Ÿ˜ฉ
Tonight’s dinner took 1 hour and 13 minutes.
1 feckin HOUR and 13 soul-destroying minutes.๐Ÿ˜ 
It went like this.
Her:  I don’t like Chicken.

Me: Yes you do.

Her:  You KNOW I don’t like chicken.

Me: Yes you do.

Her: No I don’t. (Pushes chicken off plate.)

Me: Please put that chicken back on your plate.  Now, stop your nonsense and eat your dinner. (Inside scream.)

Her: I don’t LIKE chicken.

Me: You ate chicken in Granny’s on Monday.

Her: That was Gwanny’s chicken. 

Me: (You have to be feckin joking me.) Eat your dinner please pet. 

Her: WHY. are. there. CARROTS. on. my. plate? (Impressive tone there Mini-Me.)

Me: Eat your dinner.  Look.  Princess is eating her dinner. (Futile sing songy voice)

Her: These potatoes are BORING.

ME: (FUCK ME….) The potatoes are special magic potatoes that give you super powers.

Her: I don’t like chicken. ๐Ÿ˜ก๐Ÿ˜ก๐Ÿ˜ก๐Ÿ˜ก๐Ÿ˜ก
Repeat this x 17.
Add in a few top parenting lines such as: 
“If you eat your dinner, you can have TWO bedtime stories.”  (I’m amazing aren’t I?)
“Did you know that eating your dinner makes your muscles bigger than Daddy’s?”

(JUST EAT YOUR BLOODY DINNER!)
“Look. Your baby sister is almost FINISHED HERS. She’s such a big girl.” (Yup. I know. I’m terrible.)
“Potatoes make you big and strong.” (Yes.  I said it. Despite the interweb telling me last week that this line will fuel negative body image. Seriously?)
“Mummy wears glasses because I didn’t eat carrots when I was little.”  (EAT EAT EAT EAT EAT….SWEET JEEEEEEEEESUS, JUST EEEEEEEEAT!)
“YOU WILL SIT AT THAT TABLE UNTIL YOU’VE EATEN THOSE POTATOES.” 

Dirty looks.๐Ÿ˜ˆ
Princess had started hers, fallen asleep in her highchair, had a 20 minute nap, woken up and finished hers in the meantime.  ๐Ÿ˜‡๐Ÿ˜‡๐Ÿ˜‡
“Right. Scooby Doo is going off.” (Imagine that I would have cartoons on during dinner?  I know.  Go ahead.  Phone social services.  I’ll dial for you shall I?)
The telly was turned off. 

She wailed like a shitfaced banshee.

I turned my attention to the food covered fudge monster in the high chair…

I ignored her snarling…

And she finally gave in.
(She probably got hungry! ๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚๐Ÿ˜‚)
It took one blast in the microwave and 1 hour and 13 minutes, but she EVENTUALLY ate the stupid potatoes.
THEN.
THEN, she bounced off the chair, scraped and put her own fricken plate in the dishwasher, skipped over to me, gave me a kiss and said “Two stories.  That’s SOOOOOO KIND OF YOU MY MAMMY BEAR!”
I may give up now.  I don’t stand a chance.
So anyway.

How was your day?

๐Ÿ˜˜๐Ÿ˜˜๐Ÿ˜˜
#SMum #Mammyblogger #Mummy #MiniMeAndPrincess #RealStruggles #FML  #dinner