I sing a lot. I sing at the top of my voice and quietly under my breath. To my Dads constant disgust I hum when I eat. I have a musical quality I hardly even notice but which frequently offends other people. In fact put some curlers in my hair and you’ve got yourself Hilda Ogden.
Yesterday I was making a lemon jelly in the kitchen musing on my facial hair problems and singing Amy Winehouses "Rehab" out of hairy face sympathy."They tried to make me go to Rehab, but I said no, no, no. They tried to make me go to rehab, but I wont GO NO No!"…I warbled as I ate raw jelly cubes and shuffled about in carpet slippers and a pinny. Kind of fancying myself as the latest craze in big bums and screechy voices, (as you do), and having a thoroughly happy morning, when I felt a pudgy hand tugging on my apron strings…
"Mummy, why won’t you go to rehab?"
"It’s just a song, baby."
"Yes, but why won’t you go?"
"Well, Mummy doesn’t need to, Darling…"
"Yes, but Mummy, I think you should."
"Why Bab?"
"Because you would have a good experience there."
I nearly choked laughing on a blob of jelly. And then horror struck. I’ve got visions of him sitting in pre-school at CircleTime and informing the oh so very prim school Marm, that they tried to make Mummy go to rehab, but she just won’t go.
As if sending my little boy to school not wearing any underpants the other day wasn’t enough to get me the kind of reputation an apparent refusal to go address my addiction problems would only confirm….
I am laughing out loud at the thought of your wee one giving away all of mum's nasty little secrets, even if they are imagined little dirty secrets! I have a friend whose young grandaughter had to write a short paper in class about New Year's Resolutions. One of her resolutions was that "Mommy doesn't do drugs anymore." Oh my. Mommy DOES NOT do drugs. Oh, let me tell you, did we laugh about that one, even though poor mummy had a LOT of 'splaining to do. LOL!
Oh, you know he tells it all. My horror story includes the day Gerred's second grade teacher (a little prim minister's wife) came to me with a brown paper bag and a frown. "I wanted you to see what your son has brought to school today." I was not imagining the best but… oh, nothing like what appeared out of the sack. He had little tampon inserters which he had GOD FORBID! stolen from the trash can." She informed me he was sharing them as rocket thrusters with his friends…. Apalled beyond speech, I confronted him at home… "But Mommy, I washed them all off!" he screamed.. I still can't say any of this without feeling he should be hauled off to family services and me left to muddle with my own poor mothering habits…
Love you, Alison! and dear little Finley…
I hope you are writing all of these Finley Funnies down on paper to embarrass him when he's in high school.
By the way, can you get me a room in rehabe if you're considering going? I'd love to be your roomie and I have a feeling I'd have a good experience there too. LOL
I know it's a worry about what your little one might say at school (and you're probably best off not knowing what he does indeed say), but your little story made me laugh out loud. Finley's little "words of wisdom" are always so amusing.
oh, I laugh hard at your stories, Alison! You are too much! Thanks for making me smile today!
HA!!! I just about spewed out my coffee when I was reading this. Too funny.
How gorgeous is that little boy? Adorable.
Oh, that son of yours is a little heart breaker in the making.
Nursery school teachers hear it ALL. I always try to find one to sit next to at a party.
My son once told his teacher that he couldn't do his homework because we were so poor that we all had to work all of the time, and, well, there just wasn't time for things like homework. Shockingly, she BELIEVED him. His sister set the teacher straight by saying simply, 'He lies.'
LOL!!!