Oh really?

Lochlan and Richard were playing yesterday, and Richard came into the kitchen to get a drink.

Lochlan comes running up, and hands Richard an imaginary jellybean, and says 'here you go Daddy, this is for when you get low'.

(For those unaware, Lochlan has Type 1 diabetes, and we always have jellybeans on hand to boost his levels should they drop low - hypoglycaemia)

Richard says thank you to Lochlan, and then mutters something under his breath.

Knowing that I might regret it, I ask what he just said.

"I said, the lowest I ever got was marrying your mother."

I told him he was going home with a friend that was due to visit later that day.

So, I'm salad now am I?

Richard was feeling... amorous tonight.

Drags me into the bedroom. (Relax, this is going to stay G-rated, I promise)

He says - You have two options.

You can have the first nap. (we've been doing 3 am readings on Lochlan for nearly two months now, one of us stays up one night, the other the next.)

Or, you can be radished.

Radished? WTF?

His reply -

It's like being ravished, but hotter.


I'm choosing the nap! LOL

Alright, alright, I know I'm slack.

Not mentioning any names or anything. (JIM)

Ok, you'll need a bit of background for this post. We used to own a Lexus, which was a very very dark green. However, Richard always called it black. This caused many arguments with us. He'd normally be talking to someone, mention the car, then say 'it's black.' To which I used to reply 'GREEN'. 'Ah, whatever.' was the reply I would get.

Anyway, fast forward a few years to tonight. (Also, this is a Lochlan comment tonight. But I guess it shows what my life is going to be like!)

We're sitting at the gas station, waiting for Richard to pay for the gas. Lochlan is curious, (as are all three year olds, I guess), and has previously asked why we use the red gas, and not the black or the green. The only way I could think of explaining it to him (he was nearly 3 at the time) was to say that the black gas would make the car sick if we put it in. I told him we could use the green, but the red is the best for our car.

So we're sitting there tonight, and he says our car is black. It's not, it's green. (My thoughts - you've got to be bloody kidding me, not version 2.0 of this argument). He's adamant it is black. I kept saying, no , it's green. So I told him about the other car we used to own, how Daddy always said it was black, when in fact it was green.

Richard gets back in the car, we're still arguing, so I had to explain it to Richard. He turns around and says to Lochlan that they'll make up a new name for the colour on the car, and they'll call it 'Richard Black'.

Lochlan came out with a beaut of a reply.

'No Daddy, it's RICHARD GRAY!'

What can you say to that?

Jingle Bells, Batman Smells...

Sorry its been a few days, I have two very sick little boys, and barely get 2 seconds to go toilet at the moment.

Lochlan has this funny reaction to singing. Sometimes he likes it, other times he reacts funny (like at his birthday party). You start singing, and he yells at the top of his voice

"STOP SINGING RIGHT NOW!"

Which can be amusing at times. Other times it can be frustrating, I like singing, and tend to sing while I'm doing things.

We passed a sign the other day which advertised Carols by Candlelight. I loved going to this as a kid, to me, singing carols is one of the best parts of Christmas, and I have quite a few favourite carols, Silver Bells, The First Noel, Snoopys Christmas (I have a deal with Richard with that one, I get to play it loudly, and sing along to it ONCE at Christmas time, then that is it. If we're out and hear it, too bad LOL - he can't STAND it).

I mentioned to Richard that I would love to go to Carols by Candlelight, and take the boys, but I said I would be concerned that Lochlan would stand up and do his 'stop singing' routine.

Richards reply?

"That's it, we're going."

Gee ta.

Wouldn't want to be old now would you?

Afternoon snack time at our house. Richard pulls out a 'squeezy', which are Fruit Hits, basically pureed fruit in a squeezy foil bag thing. Hence the name.

Lochlan loves these, and he can have them occasionally because the carbohydrates can be accounted for easily enough.

Richard hands it to Lochlan, says 'chug that back boy'. To which I tell him off, to the tune of him going 'scull, scull, scull, scull' to Lochlan. He gets told off by me, again.

To which he replies:

"If we do it enough now, by the time he's 21 and his mate says it to him, he'll just turn around and say 'eeewww, my dad says that'."

I like the logic, just don't think that it's going to work that way.

Genetics.

Connor was asleep today, and when he woke up, he was playing and laughing in his cot. Richard and I went in there, and we were watching him for a little while, when he leans over his giraffe, then looks like he's humping the damn thing. He then throws up on it, giggles, and growls.

Richards comment:

"That's my boy! Drink too much, hump it, throw up on it, laugh at it, then tell it off, and sit there and expect someone else to clean you up."

Oh goodie. Anyone want a child in a few years time... if his teenage years are going to be like that...

It's official. My husband is going to hell.

He was looking at some photos on Facebook the other night. To protect him from groups of angry mobs with flaming torches and pitchforks, I wont disclose who has the photos he was looking at, or the situation they were taken in.

Anyway, so he's flicking through the photos, and comes across this one of a woman who has one of 'those faces'. You know the ones I mean, the photo was taken at just the wrong moment.

In between bouts of laughter, Richard gets this ripper of a comment out:

"She looks like an animal with lots of small sharp teeth has just clamped itself onto her clitoris with a force of 4000 psi."

I laughed so hard, I'm pretty sure I'm going to hell too.