So, Tuesday rolls around again along with the #funee side of my daughter, Grace, who never fails to amuse. This week is rather full of toilet talk so if this kind of thing offends you then look away NOW!
The first discussion came about as Grace was trying to figure out how water was made and where it came from. I gave her a few non-descript answers as I didn’t want to start digging up my knowledge (of ‘lack of’ should I say) from my old science lessons! That evening, after finishing a chapter of ‘Gangsta Granny’ and, as I was turning the light out, ‘Mum?’ Grace asked ‘do you know I think I know where water comes from!’ ‘Excellent Grace, where’s that then?’ ‘Well, when we go to the toilet and all our wee and poo goes down the drain and into the sewers, then they take it and they treat it and turn it into water’. Ewwww!
Two mornings later, as we pull up outside of school in the car, all of a sudden from the back seat I hear ‘Oh, thats just great that is!’ ‘What Grace?’ I reply ‘What’s wrong?’ Grace came back ‘No Mum, no, I just can’t tell you’. ‘What is it, you know you can tell me’. Following a few more ‘I can’t tell you’s’ I got ‘Well Mum, I hate to tell you this but a bird has just done a whopper of a poo on your windscreen!’
A couple of other small gems: Grace tells me that Emeli Sande sings ‘like a chav’ because ‘she can’t pronounce her words properly’, she told me she did a cat poo in the toilet this week (?!) and there was more ‘bad newses’ last Thursday morning as a grey and very angry snow cloud was headed towards her bedroom.
Finally, last night as I put her to bed – and already having Grace relay a story to us of her bouncing on the sofa at her fathers and falling off and banging her head – she told me that her head was extremely painful but her brain was empty and she thought she had ‘discussion’. I think you might mean concussion there Grace!
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