Young at heart

So there are some things as a mother that I probably shouldn’t do, but that I do do because, well, I think they’re really funny.

For example, Tobias will ask for juice (or as he calls it ‘joooos’), I’ll go get him some then sit at the other side of our glass panelled double doors that separate our kitchen from our living room and pretend to drink it. It sounds mean, (like I said I probably shouldn’t do it) but right now, he finds it really funny. And so do I.

This got me thinking; about growing up and all the things we do when we’re younger that are no longer acceptable when we’re older. And this made me think about my dad (quite relevant considering it’s Father’s Day on Sunday and, coincidentally, his birthday too.)

My dad is amazing. He’s funny, intelligent, rock hard (or to put it another way, terrifying) and a big softy deep down.

He used to get up to all kinds of tricks when he was younger (which he told me about when I was old enough to understand that I wasn’t to repeat any of them); like him and his friends shooting pellet guns at each other at close range. Or pinning his friends down and force feeding them stones. Or standing in a circle, throwing a knife up in the air and seeing where it lands (or whom it lands in). Or jumping off of cliff edges into the sea. You know, usual kids stuff. (Just so you know, that was sarcasm.)

Ok, so some of that stuff is pretty out there, but because he was young most people would just think ‘tut, kids’ with a grin on their face.

Fast forward twenty years to him telling his little girl (AKA me) that gherkins are pickled hamsters (girl (me) glances at her pet hamster and gulps.) Fast forward another few years to him giving his poorly daughter (again, me) an apple to eat which turns out to be an onion. Now, I know, it’s stuff, but still, not really acceptable; not like when he was younger. I’m pretty sure he was suitably chastised by my mum, though thinking about it I’m not too sure; he still cracks a smile whenever it’s mentioned now.

Noah can get away with stuff that I never could, you know, now that I’m a mother and an adult and have responsibilities.

For example, if Ash lies on the floor to play with the boys, Noah’s secret weapon is to lick his face. If I did that,

1. It’d be weird, and

2. Ash wouldn’t speak to me for the rest of the day.

Noah also has a tendency to eat his bogies. Or pick them and wipe them on his daddy’s face (flashback to a few days ago while I was in the bathroom running a bath and I hear Ash panicking and nearly wetting himself (due to laughter, not incontinence) as Noah rubs his snot all over his unsuspecting daddy. *joy*)

 

If an adult did that, they’d probably be sent for some kind of mental health tests.

Still, I won’t be growing up too fast. I may be a mother, but what fun would I be if I didn’t do a few ‘unacceptable’ things every now and then? Like perhaps, pinning Ash down in order for Noah to do with him what he will?

Ah, they keep me young.

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