As I do my work it’s inevitable the sounds of my children drifts up to me… like the little cherubs they are…
INT: Kitchen, Child n.2 (Monkey-10) is busy doing her online lesson of Italian with our friend Tony.
Child n.5 (Aryan Girl-2) definitely thinks SHE will discuss life, and the Universe and Everything with Tony.
Wife: Grabs Aryan Girl to bring her downstairs to the lounge. Aryan Girl is quite upset about it.
On her way back up to the bedroom, near my study, wife tell me:
“She farted on me!”
Me: “What?”
Wife: “She was so upset I was taking her away from talking with Tony that I saw her tense up her whole little body to do it!”
Me: (Laughs while thinking… ‘Tis Karma my dear, I was a well behaved and respectful child…’)
Later…
Monkey is finished with the lesson and the wife tells Tony if he has a minute Aryan Girl really wanted to say a quick hello. Keep in mind 30 minutes have passed…
Wife, carrying Aryan Girl on her hip, comes in view of the FaceTime Monkey was having with Tony…
Aryan Girl: (In excited and loud voice) “Tony! Guess what? I farted on Mommy!”
When the laughter dies down…
Wife: She told me she would tell you that when I took her away as she was so upset I was taking her away from the lesson.
Me: (Silently from my study… nods.) Wife’s concept is confirmed… the scatological side is obvious English… but the cold-plotting of revenge and harbouring of a grudge… yeah… Venetian.
On reflection, maybe I should not have done my few minutes of bagworm with the two youngest girls in tow today…
This post was originally published on my Substack. Link here
