Made Like Mummy Used to Make

An hour to myself after school and pre-dinner making duties, and I sit down to do a moment of work. Just get one more thing off the list. Cos it’s FUN!

Monkey Boy ventures in – game really, as all the children are well aware of venturing into my office when I have only a moment of time to get one more thing off my list – and asks for a Milo.

“Only if you make me one too,” I reply.

He’s been making himself Milos for a while now. And taught his brothers how to make them as well.

I used to intervene, early on, and had mistakenly thought they had listened to my strong advice. I should really have twigged that they hadn’t, given Chippie has his Milo in two stages; first he has a cup with several large spoonfuls of Milo, then goes back, adds antoher spoon or two, then adds milk.

Early on, I did catch them piling up a teaspoon and dumping it into a smallish cup. Two to three heaped teaspoons would do it. Then they’d add the milk.

Just like my brothers and I used to make when we were kids. We’d also add a teaspoon straight into the mouth during the process, but I’m not telling my kids that.

“NO!” I used to tell my kids. “One teaspoon only!”

“And not that much on the spoon!” I’d add, because as soon as I gave the “one teaspoon” order, they set about seeing how much Milo they could actually fit on one teaspoon. Then lick the benches clean.

I wandered off, smugly, because they were doing what I said.

Or … as I said earlier … so I thought.

“Here you go, Mum,” says Monkey Boy, handing me the blue Tupperware cup with the teaspoon standing straight up in it. Held in place, it seems, by approximately 14 heaped teaspoons of Milo. I tried to stir it, but couldn’t.

“Um, is there any milk in this?” I ask.

“Yeah, you just can’t see it under the Milo,” is the reply.

“Um, what have I said about using so much Milo? One teaspoon only, remember?”

And, yes, the not like I used to make when I was a kid, because you’re not allowed to do that, now I’m all grown up and sensible. Only I may make my own Milo like that. Only it will not be Milo, but some rich, chocolate powder, or, perhaps, chocolate flakes stated, but only in my own head.

“Yes, but this one’s made with 10% more love than the next leading brand,” he says, and skips out.

I’m not entirely sure what the “next leading brand” is, but given he’s given it 10% more love than it, I can only assume he’s referring to his brother.

I go out into the kitchen when I’m done.

The word “Milo” is written on the shopping list.

It has the word “URGENT” written next to it.

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