Apparently I am a Big Fat Poo.
After wiping a bottom (not my own) I was instructed by my four year old (it was his bottom) to go and get his pants. He wanted clean ones. I said, not surprisingly, that he could go and get his own pants.
Well.
I might as well have told him to perform Brain Surgery.
Sobs.
'Mummy, I Caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan't.'
'Yes, you caaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaan.'
Then it got really nasty.
'You are a Big Fat Poo.'
'I hate you, Mummy.'
'My Mummy is Stoooooopid.'
As I clattered round the kitchen, getting tea ready, I could hear him overhead, chucking his cars round and stamping, hard, on his floor. Making a Big Thing of getting his own pants.
He got them. Put them on. Found his trousers. Put them on. Mutter. Mutter. Stupid Mummy. Mummy is A Poo.
Made the tea. Called them all in.
He sidled in, arms crossed. Bottom lip out. A Very Cross Look on his face.
'Right.' I said, in my Bright Mummy Lets Forget All About It voice.
'Let's play the grapes game after you've had your food.'
The grape game is Just Brilliant for getting grapes down his throat.
I pretend to write down the names of each of the chickens on about 10 grapes. (just don't ask, OK?) I put them down on the table, to give to the chickens later. And Youngest eats the lot. He LOVES the look on my face when I see that all the grapes have gone.
'WHO ATE THE GRAPES?' I roar.
Giggle. Giggle. Wriggle. Wriggle.
Marvellous.
So he ate his tea. We played the grapes game. The others joined in valiantly to boost the roaring at the end.
And now I am downstairs again. I have just tucked Youngest in.
'I love you, Mummy,' he told me. Wrapping his plump arms tight round my neck.
'Love you, too, my darling.'
Don't think I'm a Poo anymore.
27 comments:
Well how could you? I mean ... fetching his own pants?! I think most of us who are mothers have been 'Big Fat Poos' in our time. I know I have. In fact I've probably got qualifications in being one - or would have if I'd taken an exam.
x
Kids! They're so fickle.
Isn't it lovely to kiss and make up?!
I may try that with courgette. We don't have any chickens though. Perhaps the ducks in the park? MH
ps word verification is hyper...
If my son called me a Big Fat Poo I think I would just calmly tell him that that made him a little turd.
Is this a four year old's thing? I keep getting called 'poo poo' too. Had to put my foot down when husband started joining in!
Ah it sounds like a normal evening in our house too.....although at nearly 6 i wish he's grow out of the poo phase! lol
Hilarious! You are the most loved big fat poo. What more can you achieve in motherhood?
Troy's comment is excellent too!
I shall try the grapes game on some of the children at work.
I'd forgotten how funny 4 year olds can be! Have a grand-daughter that age and she giggles like mad at any mention of poo, wee or boobies! Her mummy (my daughter) ignores but, ever hopeful, accepts it is a phase, however, it infuriates her daddy (my ex SIL).
Grapes game is a good idea! A x
My daughter's been through the 'poo poo' stage and now is calling me 'bananahead'.
Is that progress, I ask myself?
kitty -Glad to hear you have qualified as BFP. Some exam that would be....!
Mike H - fickle... or just little buggers.
Suburbia - sure was! he has a lovely hug... and a very noisy kiss.
MH - ducks, worms, whatever! Nice idea with the courgettes. Hadn't thought of that...
Troy - !! Or a little shit... this could run and run! (er, not literally)
WM - yup, not good to be called poo poo by Husband. Perhaps Piaou Piaou? Sounds a bit more upmarket.
Mummy - yes, it does go on a bit... we are at early part of the poo fascination developmental stage.. mind you, I still like a good poo joke!
GM - ah, thank you! Never have I been called that! (Troy comment v good!)
Kevin - you do that... and report back. Could be interesting...
Anne - poo jokes are just the best, when you're 4.. and 48. Oh, and the word bottom... he loves that too!
Catharine - wow, she is just so grown up. Banana head indeed.
will try that on Youngest and see if we can move up to the fruit jokes. Bit fed up of poo right now.
Please note that I am capable of getting my own pants, and have been for a number of years. At least since I was 26.
I do not need, therefore, to be subject to your cruel psychological trickery, with all of the issues that it will lead to in later life.
However, it would assist if you could remind me where I left them.
Lovely post! That's what you call true unconditional love!
CJ xx
Hehe...memories, memories. Love the grape game. Will try it on My Liege.
Children can be so unpredictable!
At least he didn't say you smelled like poo. Small favors, right?
Thanks for your lovely comment on my post... it was much appreciated!!
It's a tough lesson to learn, having to get your own pants in life, no wonder he was cross!
My 5 year old has moved on a bit from those sort of insults. Sitting next to his 13 year old brother yesterday, he thought it was very funny to say "Screw you" when I asked him to pick his toys up. (His brother doesn't even dare say that.) Let's just say there were "consequences".
Vicus Scurra - 26 years old and you knew how to get your own pants!! Thats good, isnt it?
CJ - I reckon it is! Although there's a lot of... Mummy, if you give me a sweet I will give you a kiss. Yeah, right.
Tessa - Hope it works! 100%success rate here...no pressure or anything...
CW- sure can. U turns worse than the Government!
Diane - my pleasure... loved your post. (Oh, but he does say I smell like a poo from time to time. Then I try and smell my own bottom, and that has him giggling like a maniac.)
Blogthatmama- it sure is... and whats worse is fetching his own socks...that match. Oh the dramas we have had over that...
expat mum - ooooooh. Pursed lips and all. I just wonder what those 'consequences' were??!
That was so funny! It takes me back. Glad you're not a big fat poo any more.
I was a poo poo head yesterday. I actually asked my 4 year old to pick up her socks off the floor.
I got downgraded to bananapants as the day wore on.
Found your blog this morning - think it's fab!
debs - so am I, Debs! Although there was a tad more I Hate Mummy last night... seems to come round when tiredness just gets too much... just like his mum!
Laura - poo poo head AND bananapants, eh???! You must have been Really Horrid!
Hard to keep straight face... really good to see you! Am off to your blog right now...
Ah, so the pants thing isn't specific to my house after all. We name our chickens, too.
Junosmom - YOU NAME YOUR CHICKENS TOO! Excellent. Will have to get some ideas from you. We need to name 2 more and are Stuck.
Ladybird WM - we've got a few to name right now - we have a few new chickies. I have named our rooster Aloha in honor of Cloudia at comfortspiral.blogspot.com as his job is to every morning say hello to the world.
People seem to like to read about chickens (why is that?) so I'll have to post a blog about naming our chickens. I just finished reading a book about a man that raises chickens set in the UK. He did it as a hobby. Hen and the Art of Chicken Maintenance
You have absolutely got to write that post! To call your rooster Aloha is just brilliant... looking forward to hearing more!
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