Things you hear from the kids bedroom # 206

After last night’s extremely long night, Godzilla still manages to wake early and bounce around the house, singing.

Cheery.

I don’ t know how he does it.

It was short lived, however, as it was only moment later I heard the Dreaded Scream, the one where I used to think he’d been impaled on LEGO set adorning the stairs in the hall, whilst simultaneously being eaten by fire ants and having his leg saw off with a blunt instrument, but I now know is nothing even like that. Usually, the Dreaded Scream is because Monkey Boy has done something to him, like, oh, I don’t know, nearly look at him, perhaps. Or accidentally walk within 2 feet of him as he leaves the room.

Something terrible, anyway.

Anyhoo, there it is, the Dreaded Scream.

Followed by “STOP IT! I don’t like people farting on me!”

Fair call, too.

That trauma dealt with by ignoring it completely, I can now set about preparing lunch for our guests arriving in approximately 4 minutes.

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