High Five Gross Out


There are an untold number of events I was, am and will be completely, totally and naively unprepared for in this mad cap journey of parenting.

From the realisation whilst spending the night hooked up to machines in the delivery suite that within 24 hours I was going to be a mummy!

{It seriously didn’t hit me until then}

To the shock, horror and dare I say slight respect for the deafening and vile bottom burps my boys can produce.

{I’m sure if we had a dog, they would blame it on the dog}

This week has brought with it a handful of events which once again I was not so much unprepared for, rather silenced by the sheer absurdity and hilarity of them.

Ethan, who we always thought was the quiet one, has decided to strap on his big boy boots and try bossing his big {by 1 minute} brother about.

“Ahren, go to the playroom, now, and cry!”

It was hilarious!

Ethan had such a determined look on his face, he even pointed to the playroom!

But he also showed a very sweet caring side. The boys had pootled off to the loo {like girls, they go to the loo in pairs}, Ethan says to Ahren

“Be careful Ahren, you don’t want to get poo on you”

Ahhh, how sweet.

Ahren, the little poppet, not to be outdone, is honing his cute~as~a~button~super~sneaky~skills.

He was all cuddled up to daddy, being all cute, he said

“I’m sorry daddy”

“What for Ahren?”

Ahren then stuck his finger up his nose and wiped whatever came out ON DADDY’S ARM!

Nasty boy! But I did laugh!!

Almost as gross, but not quite, as when he came bowling up to me earlier today for a high 5, with his hands covered in soggy tissue paper.

“Mummy! High 5!”

{That’s how we roll in this house}

“High 5 dude!   eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeewwwwwwwwwwwwwwww!


What is that on your hands?

NO! Don’t touch me, ick ick ick! What did you do? How did you get wet tissue on your hands, did that come out the loo?”


“Hands up in the air, don’t touch any thing and come with me”

Is it just boys who do this kind of thing?

When, if ever do they grow out of it?


my boys

Naturally, the boys couldn’t let a week pass without trying to embarrass the bejinkos out of me.

I was chatting to our neighbour over the fence, about something or other, she had to pop back inside her house for something, Ahren cries out

“Where’s she gone?”

Ethan starts jumping up and down trying to look over the fence, calling out

“We need our lady back”

“Come back lady! COME BACK TO US

“Mummy, we need our lady”

Oh my goshness, what is a girl to do? I could laugh it off with a

“Hahaha, just like their father!”

But I don’t think either of us come off well in that.

I think I shall hide for a few days, or until the boys next embarrass me and this whole wanting a lady malarkey can be forgotten.


I had hoped to have a relaxing bath, get me all chilled out for another stress inducing week with my little darlings, when about mid way through my bath Ethan comes charging into the bathroom waving a fork in the air and FLINGS a poxy fish cake in the bath.

I was still in the bath.

I do not like sharing my bath with food.

Especially fishy food.

One of these days, I shall send all the parenting books backs and ask for the missing chapters, because there is a heck of a lot missing, none mentioned having to share bath time with your kids dinner.




  1. I had to laugh at this post, although I kind of wish I wasn't eating my dinner at the time!
    Bless them xx

  2. oh my lands... they never cease to make me laugh!


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