Every now and again something happens which makes me realise that my kids do actually listen occasionally. My efforts are not, as I thought, in vain.
On Saturday mornings, The Husband takes the three of them to swimming and I walk The Dog. I definitely have the best deal by the way, because now I have my iPhone, I can facebook and text and have peace&quiet whilst enjoying my doggy. The Husband, unfortunately, has so pulled the Saturday short straw, but I still spend a great amount of time convincing him that it is he, in fact, who has the best deal. There is no fox poo at swimming, is there?
Anyway, I always get The Husband to take a snack for the kids to eat after swimming because they are always starving even though they have had two pain au chocolats, a brioche and bacon sandwich before leaving the house. It was one of those weeks where I had done naff all apart from piss around with my mates so the cupboards were pretty bear. All I had were some six month old Ritz crackers which I shoved in the swim bag.
On arriving back, The Husband, looking a bit worse for wear, relayed what had just happened.
The kids had got into the car after swimming and screamed "Daddeeeeee we're hung-reyyy" at which point The Husband produced the crappy snack. The Tweenager, obviously on the brink of starvation, mistook his snack for an Oreo and shoved it in his mouth, throwing the foil wrapper to join the toxic waste on the car floor.
"YUCK!!!" he exclaimed in disgust. "What is this! I don't like it!!!"
"Oh give it here then" said The Husband, expecting The Tweenager to hand back half a cracker.
As he reached his hand round the back of the seat, The Tweenager promptly spat the contents of his mouth into The Husband's palm.
Now The Husband doesn't deal very well with kid gloop. He more-than-likely swore under his breath. His reaction was to throw the saliva/cracker mixture out of the window immediately.
"Oh no!" said The Tomboy, "You mustn't litter."
"It's bad for the planet" said The Tweenager, "You are not setting a good example."
"Birds can die" said The Tomboy.
Ah and that is the magic of motherhood. I was talking and I wasn't even there.