I love the funny things our kids say, particularly when they have no idea why they are funny.
The other day, the kids were suspiciously quiet. After a quick search, I found them on the floor of my room, playing with an underwire which had come loose from one of my bras. (Yes, I know, my lingerie wardbrobe could do with an update!)
“Mumma look, it’s a Frisbee,” Harmonie said, flinging it at her brother.
“No, you wear it on your head,” Chase said, putting it on his own head like a hair-band. “Or, you can put jewellery on it and wear it around your neck. Like this.”
And proceeded to make a necklace with it.
I love how simple sayings and mispronunciations become part of family folklore.
Harmonie can’t pronounce the B sound properly, and it usually ends up as G. As in: “Is that a Grand New Car/Yoghurt/Honey/insert anything she’s particularly interested in”? So in our house, we no longer just have brand new things, but Grand New Ones. Sounds so much better.
Years ago, a friend’s toddler son kept endearingly calling me “Mochie”. Charmed at his attention, I asked my friend what he meant. “Erm, monkey actually,” my friend admitted.
So much for popularity! But ‘Mochie’ very quickly crept into our everyday use. To this day, my husband and I regularly refer to each other as Mochie – Moch for short.
Driving to school, there’s one of those extremely tasteful – not – signs for nasal delivery systems. SEX. The sign screams in large red letters. I cringed as Chase began to spell it. “S. E. X. Sox!” he said triumphantly. “Mumma, why do they want people to buy more sox?”
I can put the birds and the bee talk off for a while longer then …