Normal. Family Day.

Although not ‘normal’ for us to enjoy a Family Day on a Tuesday, it was a day off (thank you Melbourne Cup Day) and it pretty much was about as normal as things are in this household.

It did commence with the six-year-old wondering whether it was a school day. There are two answers and two typical responses to this. A “Yes, it is a school day” always elicits a somewhat despondent “oh” reply form him, and a “no, not today” will guarantee a “yay” and fist pump.

Today was the latter, and he woke his father up to demand pancakes for breakfast whilst babbling away to avoid unstacking the dishwasher.

I amused myself by catching up on some work to the background noise of Chippie and his ramblings.

You know, ramblings along the lines of “something something, then the little midget something something, Dad, do you know what a midget is? It’s a little guy that can jump really high!”

I have no idea where he gets his information, but on further listening I determined he was talking about Super Mario Bros and his limited experiences with it.

I walked upstairs to procure some pancakes of my own, before they were all devoured in a whirlwind of boy, only to be confronted with “Mum, you know those moles with tentacles on their noses? [complete with visuals] What are they called? Those moles? With tentacles on their noses? They’re ugly moles.”

“I’ve met a few of them,” mutters Grumpy Pants behind me and I turn away from Chippie to shoot him A Look.

Also, to laugh, but so Chippie can’t see me.

Distracted by one of our goldfish lying upside down, tail firmly wedged in the filter and not looking terribly lively, I tended to it with a net and the toilet. Unfortunately – for me – the water in the toilet had some sort of reviving effect, and the fish who had moments before been very dead suddenly flipped itself upright and began a lively circle around the toilet bowl.

I was not particularly keen on fishing it out (pardon the pun) but an overexcited Chippie was yelling at me about how he knew it was alive, and to retrieve it.

So I did, with as much decorum and elegance as possible before I’d had enough vodka to deal with such acts.


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