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Wednesday, 14 May 2014

My Mum Says The Strangest Things

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My younger boys have the most gorgeous librarian at their school.

She is one of those ultra cool and genuinely kind women that make books totally cool too. All my boys adore her, especially my middle boy Sam.

On the way home from school the other day, Sammy was beyond excited and talking in that I am gonna spew out one hundred words per second  kind of way that you need some kind of bionic ear to decipher.

He was excited because the magnificent Mrs Harrison had loaned him a brand new library book that she thought that he and I would like to read together.

There is only one thing that Sammy loves more than books and that is BRAND NEW books with un-turned pages. SO his mother's child.

Now this book he was privileged to bring home was so brand spanking new that it hadn't even been covered yet and it came home in a special protective  plastic bag.

Was he chuffed with this honour?

Ummmm does the Pope like spaghetti?

Bless him... my son, not the Pope that is (but totally bless him too whilst you're at it) - His enthusiasm about this darn book was so infectious that I too couldn't wait to get home to see what all the fuss was about.

We were barely in the door when he had whisked that baby out of his bag and was waiting on the couch for me to join him.

When I saw the title of the book "My Mum Says The Strangest Things", I began to laugh.

And I laughed, and I snorted and I laughed some more.

And then I stopped laughing.

Suddenly I'm confused.

Was our lovely Mrs Harrison trying to tell me something?

Had Sam been telling her some of the strange things I say at home?

Oh Crap!!! What sort of stuff does he tell her?

At this point I no longer knew whether to be completely chuffed at the thoughtfulness behind the book loan , or be completely and utterly mortified at the idea that my kids have been repeating some of the weird stuff I say to their teachers.

My brain was spinning faster than Linda Blair's and suddenly I am worried that the whole school community including our precious librarian, knows exactly how weird I really am.

Maybe the mums in the canteen talk about 'The Weird Chick" whilst they make tuna sandwiches? What if the teachers chat over their post playground duty tea about how those poor children lucked out with the looney mum?

Should I invest in a fancy burka or veil so that the next time I go into school no one recognises me and I further embarrass my kids?




I know we do tell our kids a whole pot full of porkies ... OK I'll rephrase that. I know that at least I tell my kids a whole pot of porkies. You know, just the usual stuff like the square eyes caused by too much TV, the risk of turning into a Pumpkin head if you stay up too late,  how the kid who ate the lolly that a stranger gave him lost his voice for ever - yada yada yada.

That's just normal parental porkies right? But it does makes me wonder what other kind of stuff out kids tell our teachers?

We parents get the rough end of the stick. I'm no gambler but I'm willing to bet that my children don't tell the teacher how they themselves drop to the floor and bark at people knocking on the door or as they walk past our front windows.

I bet they don't tell the teacher how they only speak in songs after 6pm and that every conversation becomes a mash of head splitting latest hits medleys that are designed to achieve nothing but drive a parent completely insane.

I bet they don't tell the teacher how they will only eat their broccoli if you play the martian game and pretend that the broccoli is actually gigantic trees that have been shrunk down by a minimiser ray gun so that the martians can fit them in the boots of their rocket ships and take them home to their wives because there is a flower shortage on Mars.

*ahem*...

OK so none of mine have REALLY believed in the martian story for at least 2 years now... but whatever. Once upon a time they did.

They say "from the mouths of babes' but I am here to tell you that these babes of ours may be designed to look sweet and innocent but the truth is they are really on some kind of revenge mission to humiliate us in front of their teachers as payback for force feeding them martian minimised trees and porky pies.

It turns out the book is good. Very good in fact.

You should totally read it and then buy a burka for the school run.

It also turns out that our gorgeous Mrs Harrison reads this blog and already knows for a FACT that I am a weirdo so she didn't really need my boys to tell her that after all.

Does make you wonder though doesn't it?
What do you think your kids tell your teachers about or repeat at school?