I am Sweet Jebus, What Did She See Mum?

“Mammy I wrote you a note.”

“Did you Darling?”

“Yes.  I wrote it the other night when I couldn’t get to sleep and I forgotted to give it to you.”

“Ok. What does it say?”

“It says My Mammy and Daddy were very happy doing the rumpy.”

(WTF? WTF? WTF?)

“Erm. Okaaaaaaaaaaaaay?”

(Inside I am thinking FAAAAAAAAACK. What has she seen? What have we done? Ohmygodohmygodohmygodohmygod… I have scarred my child for life. What…when…how…WHEN?)

Outside, I TRY to remain calm and composed…

“What is Doing the Rumpy Darling?” (Tread carefully Mammy.)

“No.  DURING the Rumpy.”

(Sweet Japonica on a big bike, shoot me now…)

“And what is Rumpy?”

“That game you were watching…”

(Now I’m utterly lost.)

“What game?”

“When Ireland WON the match with the funny ball.”

“OH!”  (Joy and rapture and Thank the frivoulous fecks!)  THE  RUGBY?!

“Yes,  The Rumpy.  Remember you and Daddy were all excited and jumping up and down and smiling?”

“Aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaah!”  (Hallelujah!)

Yes we were Darling. Yes we were.  Right there in the middle of the kitchen, in broad daylight…and not a door locked or anything!

Phew…

rugby

 

I am So-mortified-AGAIN Mum! 😅

​Don’t you just LOVE kids?
4 and a half year olds are particularly adorable.
I have one you know.

 I’m really quite proud of the little toot.

She’s pretty, cute and funny and gives me endless hours of laughter and joy and of course the main one…utter and ABSOLUTE MORTIFICATION.
So frequently do I currently find myself wishing that the ground would open up, that one could mistake me for an archaeologist.

Except, I don’t want to uncover bones or history…

I want to climb in beside the bloody bones and turn back time.
Shop.

Today.

Well behaved Mini-Me being suspiciously sweet and quiet.💗

Then,

Check out.😈😈😈
We were waiting in the queue, behind a lovely lady who was possibly just out of the gym.

Her hair was scraped back and she was very tall and sans muckup.  She looked like a wonderfully normal woman, minding her own business.
The DOLLY looks up at her and I can suddenly see what is JUST ABOUT TO HAPPEN unravel before it actually does.

It’s slow motion… 😲😲😲😲😲
I try in vain to distract her and to change the subject before she opens her pretty loud little beak.

I fail miserably because, in the loudest WHISPER you have EVER HEARD, she announces:

 “Mammy it’s MISS TWUNCHBULL!”


NOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO!

It’s  out and before I get a chance to shush her, she misunderstands that I might not have heard her the first time, so she shouts it again…sans whisper.
I start some ridiculous sing song about reading James and the Giant Peach when we get home, praying she didnt hear, and eventually have to courage to look up at Miss-not-at-all-like-the-Trunchbull to see if she’s  going to seing me over the fence by my pigtails!
She seems oblivious and is paying the check-out attendant.  PHEW!
The attendant, however, is not oblivious.

He is trying with great difficulty to stifle his laughter.
The unknowing star of our Roald Dahl inspired show leaves the shop and he buckles. 😂😂

“OH GOD I’M MORTIFIED!” I say, scarlet faced.
“I’ve seen worse Love” he laughs.
I pay and leave with Mini-Me  trotting behind me, quite happy with herself and having NO CLUE how close she was to getting Mammy locked in the fricken Chokey.
And she’s lucky that there is no Chokey in S-Mumble Hill…
It’s Mortification Monday. 😅😅
How was your day? 😙😙😙😙