My sister, the seven year old and the five year old have just been staying.
As I have a small house with two double beds, I was bunking with the seven year old and my sister baggsed the five year old. A tactical manoeuvre set into tradition by her as she is well aware that sharing a bed with the seven year old is the equivalent of spending the night with a wringer washing machine.
Previously I have erected a pillow barrier down the middle of the bed for protection, however this time the seven year old insisted that her life sized stuffed chocolate Labrador would protect me from her flailing limbs.
I am a such a gullible fool.
The next morning my sister and I were having a discussion on our respective sleeps.
'The washing machine was on a spin cycle.'
'The five year old was a magnet.'
Silence.
Then, a delighted squeal from the five year old, 'Mummy, you're a fwridge!'
Wednesday, June 03, 2009
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5 comments:
Sweet story. Is that the one who calls you Kate Lastnamewithalisp?
Oh, you have such a lovely memory -but that one belongs to Mother-of-four-boys-aged-six-to-one.Three of the four boys call me that. (The one year old just smiles,staggers, drbbles and tries to suck the rings on my fingers).
Excellent! In my experience they attempt to burrow into your armpit.
Ah that's nice. Little wrigglers.
I bet you were secretly liking the stuffed lab.
HI Grow Up, is that the small people, or the stuffed chocolate lab?!
Holemaster, yeah, okay, I was. He did get quite hot when bed-bulldozed into my back.
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