A slip of the tongue.

It sometimes feels like the Bear is growing up so fast, like if I blink we will miss it. He hears something once repeats it loudly and then it is imprinted in his memory forever.

“Brilliant”, you say
“excellent news, he is coming along nicely”

Well, yes but it does have it’s pro’s and it’s cons. It kind of depends on what exactly he is hearing, repeating and imprinting.

For example, no longer am I ‘mummy’, mum or mama now I am referred to as ‘babe’ on a surprisingly regular basis. Wonder where he got that from?
Still it could be worse . . . .

Oh actually wait
It is worse.

There is now no regard for my privacy at all. I can barely remember the days when we took it for granted that we could go to the toilet without a little person barging in while I am indisposed. How far away those days seem when I could use the toilet without a running commentary on what exactly is going on like some sort of toddler wildlife documentary. You get my drift here, please don’t make me explain further!

Public changing rooms are a nightmare, besides darting off into the mens changing rooms while I am half dressed, now apparently it is highly amusing to have a good tweak of my ‘buttons’ while shouting ‘babe, booby’.
I am feeling the need to clarify that although he has heard the word ‘babe’ on many an occasion, never has he heard the words ‘babe’ and ‘booby’ together. Ever! I have no idea where he has heard ‘booby’ from. Peppa Pig has a lot to answer for in my book.

Tonight was a different ball game altogether though. Picture the scene, the Bear quietly reading a book with daddy in the dimly lit room. I come in quietly and ask for a little kiss goodnight before he goes to bed. Sure enough in he comes with his little lips pursed ready for the kiss. I unassumingly move towards him thinking how cute he was that he hadn’t said no like he usually does. Our lips meet. . . .

and then he slipped me the tongue.

Actually no, he didn’t slip it to me, he pretty much shoved it all around my face and cheeks and in my mouth before I had a chance to retreat.
As I drew away though we were still connected,

by the loving bond of mother and son you say?

No, no by the delightful string of spit that hung between us.
Maybe he mistook the dim sleepy lighting for romantic lighting who knows.

I hope he gets better at this kissing lark for when he has his first kiss

on his wedding night!

Single Post Navigation

← Older Entry

Newer Entry →