A lovely family day out, visiting museums and feeding the seagulls in the park all the good biscuits and leaving us with cheese sandwiches to eat.
We caught some trams (yes, thank you all those lovely, courteous people who pushed past my hubby with the pram, and pushed my 6 and 9 year olds out of the way so you wouldn’t miss the tram – despite us having been there well before you were. And to those who pushed past us when we were attempting to lift the stroller, laden with baby, onto the tram. Much appreciated!), wandered around and looked at things and had a lovely day.
A few minor incidents of whinging and complaining and asking repeatedly if they can watch a Star Wars DVD tonight, and some not listening when we asked them to do things (but very minor, I was impressed) and lots more non-stop asking if they can watch a Star Wars DVD when we get home. Grumpy, finally had it with the non-ceasing requests, eventually makes a request of his own. Actually, I lie – he gets so pent up, he totally bypasses the “Please stop now” request and just goes for the throat.
“If anyone mentions Star Wars or does any Star Wars noises or actions or Lightsabre fighting or anything the DVD will not go on tonight!”
I saw my opportunity and seized it with both hands, and started having Lightsabre fights as we’re walking up Collins Street and repeating whatever gibberish I can remember from the movie as loudly as possible. Monkey Boy turns and looks at me – the “You’re such an idiot” look and I yell “WOO HOOOOOO! No Star Wars DVD tonight, coz someone did Star Wars stuff! In your face, I WIN! So, ner!” With my arms in the air, of course. Lots of big arm action going on.
Got home, all of us exhausted, and Grumpy cooked up a deliciously scrumptious meal of tuna (that he’d caught himself) with a “mango guacamole” – a recipe he’d caught on TV. Unusual for him, but who was I to argue. Although I would have called the “guacamole” more of a salsa.
Not enough tuna, so he pulled out some frozen crumbed fish we had, and the kids got that. He has his priorities right! Godzilla – lover of fruit and salads – was determined he would not eat the guacamole/salsa, consisting of mango (yum!), avocado, tomato and cucumber (and some other yummy things, but mainly those ingredients), all foods which he loves!
Meh. Do I look like I care? Couple of things to remember here:
- I’m not a restaurant (nor is Grumpy);
- You always get a choice – take it or leave it!;
- I’m not the one whose going to go to bed hungry;
- You don’t wanna eat it, great – more for me!;
- I’m sure there’s something else profound here, but can’t remember what it is at the moment
That taken as given, he ate his fish. Well, half of it. The other half had … disaster of all disasters! Touched the salad!
The intro to teary tantrum commenced, and, not being arsed enough to get up or to deal with a tanty, I fixed the problem.
I picked the fish up and licked the salad off it.
(It was yum, too!)
Monkey Boy, in a desperate bid to aid the dilemma, by which I actually mean “continue to be a smartarse little shit” informs Godzilla “Euwww! Now it has Mummy germs on it! Euwww!”
“Eeuuuwwww, ” says Godzilla. “I’m not eating that!”
“HAHAHAHAHAHAHA,” says Chippie and throws a partially masticated piece of mango across the table. “HAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA!”
“Oh, for fu …,” I lament. “It’s just Mummy spit. Sheesh. Look, here, it’s just like one of Mummy’s kisses,” and I pick the fish up, from whence it had landed, back in the salad, licked it off again, then kissed it. Then licked Godzilla’s face under pretense of kissing him. “Now eat your damn fish!”
So he ate his fish. And, because he’d been sitting in front of a plate with a pile of salad on it for long enough, he then ate the salad, too.
My work here is done.