Ah, kids. I don’t much abide by that “I went through 6 days of labour and excruciting pain to bring you into this world” rhetoric (aside from the fact it was only 24 hours labour, once, then after that it was “drugged up to the left tit”, by anyhoo) but sometimes you’re left with not much else.
Godzilla has this awful penchant for asking for something and not being able to let go of it, regardless of the number of times, and ways, you say “no”. He asks, and asks and asks until you break down into a sobbing, incoherent mess on the floor and he goes and does it anyway.
We’re currently having it assessed and finding methods of managing it …
His latest is his infatuation with the words “honey dew”. Not so much the fruit, although he is my fruit monster and can devour 14 apples in as many hours. Or less. Nope, he loves the words, and keeps mentioning them in the most irrelevant of contexts. Apparently, also this is hilarious! and he also cannot comprehend “shut the fuck up now, please”. Nor the fact I’m clenching my fists and avoiding the melon section at the fruit shop for fear of throwing one at his head.
It reached a point, this afternoon, however when he commenced with asking if he could change his name to “Honey Dew” then became rather pissed off when I kept saying “no”. I was trying to drive home safely, then cook dinner. I didn’t have time for name changes.
It also had the side effect of inspring Monkey Boy to join the conversation and ask if he, too, could change his name.
“Why didn’t you call me Wat Tambor?” he asked.
(A person or somethine in Star Wars allegedly. I would know if I gave a shit, I’m guessing….)
“Um, because it’s a really stupid name! Also, I can’t spell “what tambore”, so bad luck. And it’s stupid.”
This sent him off on a bout of verbal diorhea-like rambling, leaving me to avoid