Grumpy found time to take kids to barber.
Good thing really, as things were getting quite serious. Approaching critical really.
Conversations went like this:
Monkey Boy: Mummy, I fell down the stairs. It really hurts.
Me: *snort* *snigger snigger* PAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
Monkey Boy: Mum, Godzilla hit me with a train. On the head.
Me: PAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA. No, sorry. PAHAHAHAHAHAHAHA
I was beginning to feel like a bad mother. Not quite, but getting there.
Its not my fault. He looked ridiculous. I couldn’t help but laugh. I did try really hard not to, but … you know, some things are just out of your control.
(Thank goodness Godzilla’s green face was fading. Only noticable if you looked very closely. And knew where to look)