So we’re going up to the village to collect the parcels that the weak, cowardly, scum that are BRT, both employees and managers of that company suck ass, leave with the bar, the newsagent, random strangers, and if we had homeless people, probably them too.
I take the Pink Astronaut, who, by the way, in keeping with her scatological history , is just finishing up in the toilet, where her mother is valiantly trying to flush the umpteenth log this child has produced that clogged the bog.
As she pulls up her leggings, and runs out o the toilet, leaving her mother to deal with the smelly problem, she runs up the stairs to me, knowing I’m off somewhere saying:
“I am so proud of myself for blocking the toilet again!”
You know that meme on Facebook about a fossilised turd that they attribute to some Viking and how “huge” it was? Well, my wife thinks that was either an amateur of the turd Olympics, or possibly a child of age 3-4 since the fossilised product was a mere 20cm in length.
Aaaanyway… with that shitty prologue, we proceed to get in the car and drive up the hill. I was eating an apple and give her what’s left of it, because she loves apples, and as soon as she’s done munching on it she opens with:
“I know you will die before Mommy.”
Me: (cue another What the actual fuck? Moment.) “What?” Giving her a sideways glance of deep suspicion. You never know. The wife may have plans to poison me…
PA: “Yeah. You will die before Mommy.”
Me: “Oh yeah? And why do you say that?” You gotta finesse these kids, if I outright asked Is she trying to poison me? They’d probably just smile enigmatically and say “maybe…”
PA: “Because you’re older.”
Me: Ha! Foolish girl! I’ll outlast you all, they didn’t nickname me the Kurgan for no reason… “Well, just because I’m older doesn’t mean I’ll die first.” Pause. “In fact, given the way your mother is going…” Lack of proper sleep, ignoring me when I tell her to take naps with the little wolf, not eating properly, ignoring my cautions about her health in general…
PA: “Yeah… maybe Mommy will die first.”
Me: (silently to myself) Well, that was a completely fucked up random little chat. At least it’s over now. I mean what the hell makes her think about our death anyway? Probably after the inheritance, knowing them.
PA: “ Squished by a bus.”
Me: What the ACTUAL fuck is wrong with them?!? “What?!”
PA: Smiling gleefully, with an evil grin. “Yeah!” her lisp remains, making it even more sinister for some reason. “Squished flat like a pancake!”
Me: “…”
PA: “Yeah, squished flat. Like a pancake, and then mom disappears.”
Me: “…” (just looking at her now. I mean it’s probably worse, because she doesn’t LOOK like a psychopath. Which means they won’t see her coming.)
PA: “Mommy will be squished flat like a pancake and then disappear.”
Satisfied she has made her position clear she then quickly takes my hand when we get to the village and asks me to play the “pulling” game. I walk fast and give them a strong tug that means they can sort of skip-glide along as they get pulled.
Yup. You’re just not going to see her coming at all.
This post was originally published on my Substack. Link here
