I have spent the evening at the minor injuries unit of our local hospital with all three children because my teenage son has injured his ankle quite badly.
We sat in a waiting room full of other far more badly injured beings. We must have kept them amused though. The conversation drifted from subject to subject but here were some of the classics:-
8 year old: “I’m going to do my trumpet practice while I’m waiting”
Me: “You can’t play your trumpet in a hospital waiting room”
8 year old: “You know cows have those tubes between their legs that pus comes out of?”
Me: “Do you mean udders that milk comes out of?”
8 year old: “Yeah. Well do you know that if you play music to them you get even more pus”.
Me: “Do you think we should move to the country so that you get a better idea of what’s going on?”.
8 year old: “This is what Sponge Bob Square Pants and his pet snail, called Gary sound like when they sleep” (imagine “snore,
whistle, snore, whistle” noises). “How long do snails sleep for?”
Daughter: “I didn’t pass out but the nurse jabbed the injection in really hard and now I can’t lift my arm at all. Apparently
6 people have died from the injection because they’re obese and one girl passed out.
8 year old: “SIX PEOPLE DIED AT YOUR SCHOOL TODAY JUST BECAUSE OF AN INJECTION???”
8 year old: “I got 14 out of 20 for my spelling test today. My friend only got 8, but he’s lesdixic”.
Daughter: “You don’t have a great big willy, you’ve got a tiny willy what are you talking about”
8 year old: “I didn’t say I had a great big willy, I said I had a BAKED BEAN willy, but at least I’ve got a bigger willy than you”
Daughter: “I don’t have a willy”
8 year old: “EXACTLY”
Even worse was that my son was seen by the same Dr who examined my ankle injury after my appalling behaviour on Good Friday when I fell out of a taxi. He asked me questions like “Are you his mother? Does he live with you?” and I pretended to be hugely responsible and sensible and hoped that he didn’t remember me.
Bloody hell. I don’t often notice how dysfunctional we are until we’re out in public.
Chimera
October 3, 2008Brilliantly written, hysterical set of posts! I laughed hard all through the lesdixia to the sugar puffs! I am sorry about yur son’s ankle but i was worth it just for the Baked Bean Willey!
More, more, more!
T x
Mud in the City
October 3, 2008“A pint of pus please milkman!” Lovely.
Sass E-mum
October 3, 2008A baked bean willy? How enlightening to realise how soon guys think just having a willy is so amazing.
I never hear anything so funny when I have to wait at clinics and hospitals.
Lori ann
October 3, 2008dear f.m. you are hilarious. thank you for the big laugh. sorry about the lice tho. that really sucks.
xx lori
Expat mum
October 3, 2008OMG hilarious. Those little ones! My 5 year old and his friend were changing into their swimming trunks on Wednesday, comparing willy sizes and lamenting the fact that their willies were small “at the moment’, because apparently they can get really “High” sometimes. Thank god we were in an enclosed, single changing room.
Anonymous
October 3, 2008I have only just discovered your blog and i love love love it.
Frankofile
October 3, 2008You’re getting too big for these things now, but there’s a token of appreciation for you on my blog.
family affairs
October 3, 2008Thank you Chimera and many sympathies for your latest post – I think you’re very brave Lx
family affairs
October 3, 2008Thank you to all of you for your comments and welcome new anonymous person….just popping over to see you Frankofile – much appreciated – never to big for accolades!!! Lx
Abdul Sami
October 5, 2008loved it 🙂